Battle Royale: AHS edition
by GenghisQuan
Summary: The United States begins its first BR program. The first class chosen? Austin High School's graduating class of 2007. Reviews would be nice.
1. Chapter 1: Off to See the Wizard

Author's note: Please keep in mind that this is a complete work of fiction. In no way do I mean for the things in this piece to happen to anyone. Any resemblance to other works, people, places, things, etc is purely coincidental (except for similarities to Battle Royale, an awesome movie that everyone should watch, which are intentional).

Chapter 1: Off to See the Wizard

"Congratulations, Class of 2007!"

A massive cheer filled Toyota Center as hundreds of graduation caps filled the air. Mike Leach, principal of Stephen F. Austin High School, waited for the hubbub to die down. Surveying this year's graduating class, he paused before making his next announcement.

"This year's graduation is a special one. The district has arranged for an all-expenses-paid study trip to meet with America's brightest young minds for 42 of these intelligent young men and women gathered here today. The first 20 spots were allocated to the top 20 in class rank; the remaining 22 were chosen by random drawing. These are the lucky individuals:

Alice Li

Mehwish Ismaily

Dhvani Shanghvi

Yolanda Han

Megha Kansra

Laura Bloomer

Khushbu Shah

Joseph Hicks

Tian Ong

Robert Newberry

Carissa Camellia Huq

Ge Yang

Quan Zhang

Lina Lu

Edwin Wu

William Meyers

Justin Yip

Melissa Lau

Helen Fu

Connie Chen

Bradley Awodu

Jill Gandhi

Stan Staton

Deepika Mutyala

Thomas Creegan

Kelly Danielle Chan

Lloyd Thurman

Karan Ravji

Christopher Castagno

Lauren Reddish

Trevor Templeton

Yu-Heng Wei

Rusi Yagnik

Rushi Dave

Justin Ly

Cheryl Montejo

Randell Boochoon

Xuejian Yu

Grace Tran

Chao Tian

Vlad Catoi

Christopher Nabzdyk

We will notify your families that you have been selected for this great honor. You may go home and gather your belongings; a helicopter will pick you up at 2PM tomorrow."

The trip was set up quite professionally. The 42 students were divided into three groups and promptly sent on a bus to George Bush International Airport. Kelly Falligant, Christina Krueckl, and Chuck Brownson would each act as chaperone over one of the groups.

From his vantage point near the middle of the bus, Quan Zhang could see the three engaged in casual conversation in the front seats. Quan was a boy of Chinese descent, about average height and, in his own words, too strong to be a nerd but not strong enough to be a jock. Next to him sat Chris Nabzdyk, "Nabz" for short and to distinguish him from the fifty other people in his class named "Chris." He was a Polish boy whose size, girth, and facial features made him resemble a jolly polar bear.

Looking around, Quan could see students engaged in their own diversions, jamming to iPods, playing cards, gawking at the so so sooo hawt guy in the BMW that just drove by.

"Oh my God, did you see him? I think he just winked at me," Deepika Mutyala squealed in excitement. She was a well-proportioned Indian girl who seemed to have never realized it, as she was always thinking of way to slim down.

Bradley Awodu, an African-American football player who had a fondness for mixed martial arts and anime, turned away from his poker game and stared at her. "What? Deepika looks at a guy and the first thing out of her mouth is not 'I wonder if he's rich?' Wow, I'm surprised."

Khushbu Shah, who had been sitting next to Deepika, shot Bradley a dirty look. "Oh shut up and turn around. You're so annoying!"

"You know what? Go kill yourself," came Bradley's retort as he focused his attention back on his hand. "I raise."

Elsewhere, Randell, a tall lanky Indian boy, was putting the moves on Connie Chen, much to Connie's chagrin. "I never would have come if it wasn't for C-Chen. She's like a lovely lotus blossom. Isn't that right, O-Lan-da?"

Connie rolled her eyes and turned up the volume to her iPod, attempting to block out Randell's constant chatter.

Even some who normally would not be caught dead on a school-sponsored activity were present.

"Books, my only weakness," sighed Megha Kansra as she shook her head. "It made me go to prom, now I'm on a bus to – YAH!"

There was a flash, followed by Melissa Lau's giggling. "Gotcha!"

Quan turned his head and looked at the preview screen of Melissa's camera. "Crikey! Ain't she a beaut!" he quipped in a rather bad impersonation of Steve Irwin. No one noticed, however, that even though it was only 3:00PM, they were getting groggy. A few minutes later, the bus was quiet.

The bus driver turned to survey his passengers. "Sweet dreams," he muttered through a gas mask.

_42 Students remain._


	2. Chapter 2: Rules of the Game

Chapter 2: Rules of the Game

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Stan Staton, a tall African-American boy who wore his hair in an afro, was the first to come to. "Man, that was some powerful shit." He was suddenly aware that he and the other 41 graduates were in a large holding cell of some kind, and that there was a metal weight around his neck. Reaching up, Stan discovered that it was a collar of some kind. He looked around to see that everyone else also had collars around their necks. The situation seemed rather familiar to Stan, and he laughed. "Okay, this is a dream, right?"

"Why is there a bloody collar around my neck!?" Helen Fu's half-scream, half-roar came loud and clear, quickly bringing to their senses all those who had not quite recovered. Stan stared at her with a look of surprise on his face, as he was not expecting such an outburst from a tiny Asian girl. Soon the holding cell was filled with moans and many variations of "What happened?" "Where are we?" "Why are we here?" and "I think I saw this in a porno once..."

"Sorry. Just woke up. Cranky," came Helen's diminutive response. Suddenly, all chatter was cut short by the entrance of three figures, two women and a man. All were dressed in combat fatigues and carried automatic rifles of some kind. One of the women, a small and slight figure with rather large features whose dirty-blonde hair flowed from under her Kevlar helmet, led the other two. Surveying the scene before her, she sighed and uttered, in a fit of exasperation,

"Why must you always make noise!?"

Ordinarily, in any other setting, there would have been a response that would be louder than the previous ruckus. However, the students, shocked that they actually recognized all three adults present, could only gawk in silence.

Kelly Falligant, former AP English teacher, continued. "Today-"

"Yes, today!" Stan was quick to complete the year-long ritual. Falligant shot him a look.

"Haha, cute. But you're interrupting, and the next time you interrupt, I – all three of us, will shoot you in the head. No, this is not hyperbole. We will literally shoot you in the head. Like, for real."

Silence.

"Good. Brownson, would you like to do the honors?"

The man stepped up. "Sure, why not?" He took a look around the room. "I see some of you are trying to take off the collars. Um, don't do that. They'll explode."

Not only was there silence, but stillness as well.

"Good. Now that there's no chance of you randomly dying on me, allow me to explain the current situation.

"In Japan, there exists a program: Batoru Rowaiaru. Or, as us gaijins slaughter it, 'Battle Royale.' It's an experiment, sponsored by their military, in which they pick a class of ninth-graders (ninth grade being the last stage of public schooling), stick them on an island, and have them kill each other. Last man – or woman – standing gets to go home with a pension and an awards certificate from the President. Sweet, eh?" He paused, noting carefully the many incredulous and fearful looks but noting more carefully a few looks of what could be perceived as anticipation.

"This year, the United States of America will see its first such program. Your class was chosen randomly from all public high schools in the US," Brownson continued. More looks of confusion.

Brownson sighed. "Ok, you know what? I think this video will explain things." He grabbed a remote and pressed a few buttons. "It's not like you ever listen to me anyways," he muttered as a TV screen lit up with the countenance of a young and rather nubile Asian lady who proceeded to speak a long string of gibberish.

"Oops, sorry, forgot to turn on the dubbing." More button pressing. "There, that"s better. Wow. Love how her mouth doesn't match the words."

"Hi everybody! Welcome to the Battle Royale Survival Program! Now, I know you love me, but they only pay me so much to film this, so I'll keep it short! Each of you will get a bag like this one. In it there is food, water, a map, and a supply box. You also get a random weapon with which you'll use to kill each other! Some of you will get lucky..." The lady struggled to pull out a giant lumber ax from the bag.

"Some of you won't..." She reached into her pocket to pull out a tiny water pistol. After letting off a few squirts, she reached under the table and pulled out a rocket launcher. "This one is SUPER lucky! Now everyone, sing along:

There was a kid who had a gun

And BLAMMO was its name-o

AIM! A-M-M-O

SHOOT! A-M-M-O

DEATH! A-M-M-O

And BLAMMO was its name-o!"

"Come on you guys, sing along, why aren't you singing?" Falligant shook her head. "You sing all the time, except when we actually want you to sing. It's so hard to keep you satisfied."

"Yay! Bye guys, have fun! Remember to fight hard and with GUSTO!" And with that, the video ended.

Brownson continued. "Now, about those collars on your necks: they're shock-proof, waterproof, bullet-proof, gremlin-proof...the point is, you can't disable them. And if you tamper with them in any way or try to take them off, they'll explode. Now, this is what your maps will look like." He found a blackboard and drew a grid. "This program takes place on an island. This grid divides the island into exactly 144 squares. Every 6 hours, 3 squares will become Danger Zones. Don't walk into them. If you do, your collars will explode."

At this point, Christina Krueckl, who had previously not said a word, jumped into the discussion. "Your collars contain a special kind of radio transmitter. It sends signals to us about your physical condition and allows us to listen in to your conversations. It can also receive signals. Once we declare a square a Danger Zone, that means we send a signal to that square that tells every collar present to explode. But don't worry; we'll announce which squares will become Danger Zones half an hour before they do."

Brownson nodded. "Thank you, Christina. The last thing you need to know is that if no one is killed in 24 hours, all of the collars will explode. Supposedly, less than .05 of all Programs end this way."

Krueckl spoke up. "Because you are the first class to undergo this program, I will give you some hints to help you through this game.

Your supply box contains a marker with which you can mark Danger Zones on your map. It also contains a compass, a watch, and some other items. Your weapons all come with instruction manuals; I suggest you read them. You don't want to get, say, an assault rifle and not know the pro-cess for taking off the safety."

Castagno raised his hand. "Ma'am, are there guns in this...Battle Royale?" Krueckl nodded. "Sweet." Castagno was satisfied.

Bradley raised his hand."Isn't that a bit unfair? I mean, I could be a total badass, but if I've got an ax and someone like Rusi here has an AK..."

Krueckl smiled. "Think of it as leveling the playing field. The weapons are all randomly assigned to you guys. You all have varying levels of athletic and survival ability, and this balances things somewhat. Any other questions?" No hands rose. "Good."

"Weapons from the Japanese programs have run the gamut from assault rifles to paper fans. It's just like the video said – some of you will get lucky; others won't. On to specifics: in the case of guns, you will get one full clip of ammunition. Not enough to kill everyone, so you have to kill people and take their weapons. Now, they"re not all weapons per se. Some of you will get tools or equipment. There's an ammo voucher somewhere in here; basically it lets you come back here and fill up on ammo once. There's a GPS tracker that lets you know where everyone is. If you get that, then you REALLY want to either kill or team up with the kid who has the list of who has what weapon."

"Seriously," Falligant interjected, "read the manuals." She paused. "Oh, one more thing to tell you. Remember in class, when I told you to write down what you would do if there were no consequences? You might want to remember some of your friends' responses. Nothing's against the rules. Hide in buildings, lay ambushes, backstab, do whatever you have to do in order to survive. People WILL kill you without batting an eye if it means they get to go home. That's all I have to say. Krueckl, Brownson, you have anything?"

Both teachers shook their heads. Falligant grinned.

"Well then, let's begin the drawing!"

-----------------------------

_42 Students remain._


	3. Chapter 3: Let Mortal Kombat Begin

Chapter 3: Let Mortal Kombat Begin

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"OK, it's midnight, let's get the game going. This computer will randomly select who goes first and what pack they get," Brownson explained as he pointed to a rather large and cumbersome machine. "Student #1, Alice Li. Pack G01. All right, here's your pack, exit that way." Brownson pointed towards a door, and then raised his voice. "The game begins once you step foot outside this building. I suggest all of you get as far away from here as possible, look at your weapon, and plan out how you're going to use it. Oh, one last thing. Don't try to storm the compound. There are soldiers outside guarding this place who will shoot you if they perceive you to be a threat." He turned his head to watch Alice pick up a large olive-drab duffel bag and exit through a steel door. "OK, she's gone. We'll wait five minutes, and then I'll call out the next person. In the meantime...anyone know any good jokes?"

Five minutes passed.

"Student #2, Will Meyers, Pack S16

Student #3, Alice Yang, Pack B12

Student #4, Connie Chen, Pack R21

Student #5, Deepica Mutyala, Pack SP24

Student #6, Kar Ravji, Pack O28..."

And so the process went, with Quan Zhang receiving the last of the packs. As he stepped outside, he saw that the holding cell was actually a large bunker surrounded by four concrete walls that formed a square, with an exit at the midpoint of each wall. Quan was about to venture out the closest exit when he saw the lifeless body of Vlad Catoi. Vlad's entire upper torso was a blood-spattered mess, the result of a shotgun blast to the chest.

Just then, Quan heard the familiar ka-click of a firearm being cocked. He immediately stepped back and took cover behind the other wall, much to the entertainment of the various soldiers standing watch. Frantically grabbing his weapon out of his pack, Quan was greatly chagrined to find that it was a Chinese broadsword. The weapon weighed about three pounds and resembled an overgrown machete with a long handle. It had a slight curve starting at the middle of the blade, where it also grew wider, resulting in a broad and heavy affair that looked like it could chop the legs off a horse. It was a good weapon, modeled after the swords used by the Chinese forces during World War II when they found themselves in close combat engagements against the Japanese imperialist armies. Unfortunately for Quan, however, his enemy had a gun, and if Quan learned anything from _The Last Samurai_, it was that guns always win against swords.

"Castagno sure got lucky," laughed one of the soldiers. "Started off with a Remington 870 AND got his hands on that other guy's Desert Eagle." Just then, Quan heard a voice calling to him.

"Is that you, Quan Zhang Ching Chong Zong? Don't worry Chinaman, you can come out, I'll cover you! Us ROTC badasses have to stick together..."

Quan did not answer. Instead, he walked to the farthest exit and, seeing no footprints, oriented himself. The sun had just risen, and looking at his watch, Quan saw that it was close to 4:00AM. "What a wonderful day to be wearing my camo shirt," Quan thought as he took off running.

-----------------------------

"A suicide bomb vest? It's because I'm brown, isn't it!" Kar was quite angry that he was forced to participate in this killing and that they gave him such a useless weapon. "How am I even supposed to use this?"

-----------------------------

Carissa reached into her pack and pulled out two strange metallic contraptions. They were two metal poles, each about a meter long, with sharp bladed hooks on one end and spear points on the other. The handles contained hand guards in the form of crescent moon blades that pointed outwards, so that one might land a punch only to find his or her opponent's face substantially cut and bleeding.

Carissa stared at her weapons. "Holy shit, what _are_ these things?"

-----------------------------

"Ugh, this is so not cute," Khushbu Shah muttered as she brushed what seemed like the fiftieth mud-splattered bit of plant matter from her hair. "Stupid woods. OK, any minute now, I'm going to wake up."

No such luck. Khushbu sighed. "And all I get is a dinky Swiss army knife. Come on, Khushbu, think: what would Eva Longoria do?" Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by a loud piercing scream. Apprehensive yet curious, she made her way to the scream's origin.

It was a small clearing, and the cause for the scream was soon evident.

-----------------------------

Connie Chen had been looking for her friends in the same patch of forest when she heard a roar of pain. Gripping her boomerang tightly, she walked into a clearing only to find the body of Trace Thurman. There was a dagger sticking out of his stomach, and his eyes were wide open. Apparently someone surprised him and ran off, unable to deal with what they had just done.

Upon seeing this sight, Connie stood paralyzed in shock. A few seconds later, it finally hit her just exactly what she had seen, and she let out a bloodcurdling scream that attracted the attention of one Tom Creegan.

-----------------------------

By the time Tom made his way to the clearing, Connie had already run off. Brandishing his baseball bat, Tom knelt beside Trace's body and examined it for a few seconds. He then got up, spat, and walked past.

"Fucking fairy," he muttered. Suddenly, Tom Creegan felt a sharp pain in his chest. He looked down to see that there was a large wooden stake sticking out of it. Tom turned around to see Trace pull half a dagger out of his torso. "What the hell?" were his last words as he fell to the ground.

"They sure gave me a good weapon," Trace thought as he popped the theatrical dagger back into his stomach and smeared some of Creegan's blood over his body, ready to play his trick a second time.

-----------------------------

Now, Khushbu had seen everything and, had she been stronger of gullet and clearer of mind, she might have walked up to where Trace was playing possum and finished the job. Instead, she vomited and ran back into the woods. However, Connie's scream had attracted more than just Tom Creegan. Alice Yang soon walked by, holding a nunchaku that she didn't really know how to use.

"Alice!" Khushbu ran forward and embraced her friend. She then began to cry and told Alice of everything she had seen through choked sobs. Alice's face soon turned pale as she realized the gravity of her situation.

-----------------------------

Connie, however, was not so fortunate. Like Khushbu, she had also run back into the woods upon witnessing Creegan's sudden end. Like Khushbu, she had also run into a friend. However, Yolanda's mind was in a state of paranoia after witnessing Randell Boochoon and Tom (Xuejian) Yu engaged in a firefight. Tom had thrown a shuriken at Randell, hoping to incapacitate him. He missed, however, and his attack only alerted Randell to his position. Now, Tom should have taken cover. Instead, he stood there and gawked as Randell brought his Heckler and Koch MP5 submachine gun to bear. In an instant, Tom was knocked to the ground, and his breath left him through the five large bleeding holes on his chest. Randell then proceeded to march to Tom's bag, place Tom's supplies into his own bag, and leave.

After witnessing such a scene, it was no surprise, then, that Yolanda's first instinct when she saw a silhouette running towards her and shouting her name was to bring up her own weapon, a Walther P99 semiautomatic pistol, and fired. From a totally objective point of view, it was a lucky shot. Yolanda had her eyes closed the whole time, so she could not see Connie's small frame fly backwards from the impact of a 9mm round smashing into her right shoulder. When Yolanda opened her eyes, all she could see was an unconscious Connie, passed out from the pain.

The trauma of having shot her friend snapped something within Yolanda's mind. She slowly brought her pistol up and pressed it against her temple, her hand trembling all the way. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and pressed the trigger. There was a sound of thunder followed by a thump.

If there was one fortunate effect of this turn of events, it was that the shots rang loud and clear and attracted Randell to the site of the drama. The sight before him made his countenance fall. "Oh no," he muttered mechanically as he shook his head. "Not you two." Grief filled his face as he glanced first at Yolanda's lifeless body, then at Connie's. He searched Yolanda's bag, taking her survival equipment, then wrested the still smoking P99 from her hand. As he turned to Connie's body, he noticed that her chest rose and fell. Placing a finger to her nose, he realized that there was still a breath of life left in her unconscious body.

Randell quickly splashed some water on Connie's face so that she might regain consciousness. Connie awoke with a start. Surveying the scene around her, Connie fainted again, right into Randell's arms.

-----------------------------

Stan Staton was not lost. No, he was leaving a misleading trail for any would-be pursuers to follow.

Right.

"This is a lot harder than those Japanese kids made it seem," he exclaimed through gasps of air. Suddenly, he was aware of a familiarly obnoxious voice cutting through the woods.

"Oh crack! Stupid forest, stay out of my way!"

A hot rage passed over Stan's mind. He hated Justin Ly. He hated Justin's guts, hated Justin's voice, and he hated especially the idiotic comments he made during class. Stan reached into his bag for his weapon. It was a claw hammer.

"How fitting," Stan thought as he waited for his victim. It was not a long wait. As soon as the time was right, Stan lashed out with his hammer, striking a glancing blow to Justin's left shoulder. Justin tried to run, but Stan's longer legs and Black heritage meant that the escape attempt was merely postponing the inevitable. With a roar of fury, Stan tackled Justin and brought him to the ground. After some maneuvering, Stan sat on top of his adversary and held him by the neck.

"I am going to kill you. Do you have any idea how much you've pissed me off? You don't know how much I want to snap your neck, or inject Botox into your eyes, or kick you in the mouth so that the force of your teeth flying backwards would sever your spinal cord," Stan screeched as he brandished his weapon. His eyes soon fell on the claw part of the hammer. Inspiration soon came. Stan's lips twisted in a crazed smile.

"Open wide, bitch!"

-----------------------------

_37 Students remain._


	4. Chapter 4: Analyze This

Chapter 4: Analyze This

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"Suicide? Oh Yolanda, I thought you would be stronger than that," Falligant lamented as she replayed the scene on one of the many TV screens inside the administrative bunker. Hidden cameras were spread throughout the island as a way for the government to net pay-per-view money. She turned to Brownson. "How much do I owe you?"

"Twenty bucks, I believe the bet was," was his reply. Brownson looked at his watch. "It's getting close to 5:30. Shall we announce the danger zones?"

-----------------------------

Knowing the importance of remaining hidden, Quan did not seek his resting place in a building or on the ground. Instead, he climbed atop the stoutest tree he could find and rested on the strongest branch he saw. As for the danger zones, well, they did say they would announce where the danger zones were. Perhaps the announcement would wake him up.

He did not count on it being so damn loud. The announcement started with a grotesque rendition of "reveille" that startled him and almost made him fall off his roost. After regaining his composure, Quan readied his map and writing implements.

"Alo! Salut! Sunt eu, un haiduc," came Brownson's off-key rendition of the Numa Numa song. "First off, let me say that I'm impressed with how well this game's been going. Five hours, five kills! Anyways, here's the list of your friends in the order they died.

First to go was Vlad Catoi. Shotgun blast to the upper body.

Next, Tom Creegan. Stabbed in the chest.

Tom Yu. Multiple gunshots.

Yolanda Han. Suicide.

Justin Ly. Crushed skull.

As you can see, people are playing for real. Don't let your guard down, and you might get to go home. It's exactly 5:30 right now. In half an hour, grids B5, C7, and H10 will become Danger Zones. If you're in those areas, well, you know what to do. Um, that'll be all the announcements for now. Have fun, guys!"

-----------------------------

Brownson shut off his microphone and turned to his colleagues. "Not bad for a first broadcast, eh?"

Falligant looked at her script, grabbed the mike from Brownson, and turned it on. "Oh hey, just so you know, next announcement will come in six hours. That's all. Get back to killing each other." She then turned off the mike and looked at Brownson. "N00b," came her taunt.

Brownson bowed his head. "Sorry. Let's get back to discussing the players, shall we? Hmm...Laura and Dhvani seem to have teamed up. Think it'll last?"

-----------------------------

Of all the students, Laura Bloomer and Dhvani Shanghvi had it best during those first hectic hours. As luck would have it, Laura's assigned weapon was actually not a weapon, but the GPS. This was actually a misnomer, since the actual device was more like an interactive electronic map. It was a handheld device with a 7" LCD screen that projected a map of the island. In addition, the map displayed the current locations of everyone still alive. With this tool she managed to track down Dhvani, her best friend since elementary school. She had a bulletproof vest, and together the two of them made their way to a lighthouse, dodging and hiding from the likes of Castagno and Quan, whom they judged most likely to "enjoy themselves."

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"Quan hasn't killed anyone yet? I'm surprised," Falligant mused. Krueckl turned to her fellow NHS sponsor.

"Why, is he normally very aggressive?"

"You have no idea," came the reply from both Falligant and Brownson. "I think the words I've said the most to him were 'Quan, put it down.' 'It' being anything remotely weapon-like," Falligant added. She turned back to her list of students. "I see Trace is playing for real. Creegan never even knew what hit him." Falligant raised her eyebrows and nodded. "Most impressive, theater-boy. I guess your will to survive is quite strong after all."

-----------------------------

Laura and Dhvani were not the only ones who did not succumb to the bloodlust. Cheryl Montejo and Melissa Lau were relieved when they were called one after the other. They were not too pleased, however, when they discovered what their weapons were.

"A Ginsu knife?" Melissa raised an eyebrow.

Cheryl poked around her bag. "What the hell? I'm not Charlie Bronson, what do I need a stupid fucking rope for?"

-----------------------------

"Fate was cruel to give Castagno a shotgun," Brownson laughed. "The other kids might have lived for a few more hours."

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Chris Castagno was a football player, an experienced orienteer, and a self-described redneck, the kind who drives a big truck and keeps shotgun shells in the glove compartment. One might consider him a "jock," save that he was enrolled in a few AP/Honors classes. He was actively involved in his school's ROTC unit, but more important to his survival in the game was the fact that he was one of the biggest military enthusiasts in his graduating class. Castagno was a man who reenacted historical battles in his spare time and will give you his boomstick when you pry it from his cold dead fingers. This enthusiasm may have been genetic; one of his ancestors was reported to have served in Nazi Germany's Waffen SS.

Castagno was also an Eagle Scout who considered getting up at the crack of dawn to shoot God's creatures the Great American Pastime. All in all, his chances of winning the Battle Royale were very good.

Yet, despite his considerable outdoors experience, Castagno failed to notice a pair of eyes following him through a patch of bushes. They belonged to Joseph Hicks, a redheaded boy who was president of the Future Farmers of America back in high school. Even though Joseph had the advantage in stealth, his weaponry left much to be desired.

"Castagno...Remington 870 hunting shotgun. OK, I am staying away from you," Joseph concluded after consulting his "weapon," a spreadsheet containing the names of all 42 (now 37) students and the weapons they were assigned.

Castagno soon was out of sight. Joseph put up his weapons list and was about to embark on his way when he was suddenly aware of a steel object pressed against his skull.

"Hello, Joseph. I'd appreciate it very much if you would hand over that spreadsheet you have there," requested Alice Li, a small Chinese girl who happened to be assigned with a Benelli M3 shotgun. "Oh, don't try any false moves. I know how to work this thing. I've read the manual," she taunted as Joseph calmly acquiesced to her request. "Thank you." Alice smiled, and then pulled the trigger.

Joseph felt as if a rascally rabbit just dropped an anvil on him. Alice felt as if her wrists were about to fall off as she flew backwards from the recoil. She was, after all, a small Chinese girl, but she managed to get up and make her way to Joseph's gear. As Alice took Joseph's effects for her own, the throbbing pain in her wrists reminded her that there was a difference between knowing how to shoot a gun and actually shooting one. She then surveyed Joseph's bloodied corpse and fought the urge to vomit or cry.

"Come on, Alice, toughen up. You didn't get to Valedictorian by being stupid, and you're not going to survive that way either." A few minutes of rationalization later, Alice Li continued her trek with a renewed sense of purpose.

-----------------------------

Back in their lighthouse, Laura and Dhvani gasped in horror as they observed Laura's GPS. They were actually about to go look for Joseph as soon as they saw that Castagno had left the vicinity. This plan did not change when Alice entered the picture, for they figured that she would be one of those who would not play the game. Thus, they were quite surprised to see a small skull and crossbones appear where the blip representing Joseph Hicks used to be.

"She killed him," Dhvani whispered in shock. Laura nodded as she embraced her friend for emotional support.

-----------------------------

"Stan is turning out to be quite amusing," Brownson noted as he brought up a replay of Stan performing claw hammer dentistry on Justin Ly.

"Yeah, if by 'amusing' you mean totally sick and twisted," Krueckl replied. Just then, Falligant cut in.

"Seriously. We're sponsoring Battle Royale. I don't think any of you should be complaining about some of these kids being sick and twisted. Now let's get back to betting, ten bucks says Quan gets a kill before the day ends."

Brownson thought for a minute. "Make it before the next announcement of danger zones, and you're on."

-----------------------------

"That was for two years of idiotic comments," Stan calmly articulated as he reached into Justin's pack for his weapon. He was quite annoyed to find that it was a cigarette lighter. "What the hell?"

Stan's anger turned to pleasant surprise when he saw that growing in abundance around his immediate vicinity was a peculiar plant. Stan knelt down, plucked one of its leaves, and examined. It was a peculiar thing, with five leaflets growing around a stem so that it resembled the outstretched fingered of a human hand.

"Oh by the holy spirits of Hendrix and Marley, is this what I think it is?" Stan quickly took out the lighter and experimented.

It was.

-----------------------------

_36 Students remain._


	5. Chapter 5: Show Me the Money

Chapter 5: Show Me the Money

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After hours of wandering, Megha Kansra, a small Indian girl with a roundish face, soon found herself in a large clearing when she came upon the supine figure of Trace Thurman. She froze, then cautiously made her way to the body. There was a dagger sticking out of his stomach, and his eyes were wide open. Apparently someone surprised him and ran off, unable to deal with what they had just done.

"Oh my God," Megha stuttered. Suddenly, the "corpse" jumped up and lashed out with a baseball bat. Megha instinctively raised her left arm to block, resulting in a fractured ulna. She yelped in pain and reached frantically for her weapon as Trace brought up his baseball bat to strike a second time. Trace proved to be the faster of the two, quickly gaining the upper hand.

-----------------------------

It just so happened that Cheryl Montejo and Melissa Lau had happened across the same clearing, and when Cheryl saw what was happening, her eyes grew red with anger. She grabbed Melissa's Ginsu knife and ran to assist her friend. Now, Cheryl looked like your typical short, scrawny Filipino girl, keyword being "looked." Cheryl was faster and stronger than one might expect from a girl of her size and stature, and Trace was about to be aware of this fact.

"Trace! Get off her, you bastard!" she bellowed as she barreled into Trace, taking both of them to the ground. She slashed at him, drawing blood as he brought up an arm more out of instinct than conscious tactical decision. She missed a subsequent stab, however, resulting in Trace managing to escape the grapple, get back on his feet, and swing his baseball bat across Cheryl's back, winding her and knocking her to the ground. Trace was about to begin his assault once more when Megha suddenly lunged at him, a taser in her hand. However, she was weak from her injuries, and the weapon did not make contact. Nonetheless, it made Trace back off, allowing Cheryl to catch her breath and get back up.

Just then, Melissa showed up, brandishing a rather large tree branch. Deciding that he was at a rather large tactical disadvantage, Trace decided to call it quits and retreat.

"Trace," Megha coughed up a few spatters of blood as Cheryl and Melissa helped her up. "Why?" she asked.

Trace stared at the three girls. "I want to live," he replied before disappearing into the woods.

-----------------------------

Tian Ong was a short and slightly pudgy girl who used to live in Malaysia. Thus, she was a bit more used to the tropical climate of the island than some. Still, hours of constant traveling had tired her out somewhat, and she stopped to take a breather. Suddenly, she saw a familiar face run past.

"Lina!" Tian ran towards her friend.

Now Lina was a nice girl. She was also very jumpy, and her first response when she saw an unidentified figure running towards her was to reach for her weapon, an 1861 LeMat revolver. It was a large and cumbersome thing, with a nine-round cylinder and, more distinctively, a miniature shotgun barrel mounted under the main gun. A simple press of a lever would allow the user to shift between the two firing modes. It was a good thing, then, that Lina panicked. Instead of receiving a face full of shotgun pellets, Tian came out of the encounter with only a few lumps on her head before Lina realized who she was pistol-whipping. A few apologies later, the two resolved to travel together for safety.

Not long after this decision, Tian and Lina ran into Justin Yip.

"Hey guys!" Justin enthusiastically greeted the pair before his thoughts turned to his girlfriend, Kelly Chan. "Have any of you seen Kelly?" It was unfortunate that both of them were in this game together. Justin and Kelly had been going out for almost two years. Their relationship was a strong one, and some might say that the two of them were practically engaged to each other. Originally, Justin was going to wait for her outside the starting building. This plan was abandoned when he witnessed Vlad Catoi get his chest blown open by a well-aimed shot from Castagno. Such a sight resulted in Justin fleeing the immediate vicinity and wandering around aimlessly for about an hour before he realized that he had no idea where his other half was. It could be said that the only thing keeping him going was that Kelly's name had not been among the five casualties in the first hours of the game.

"Sorry, I haven't seen her," both girls replied. "Um, I've been traveling from this direction, so I guess that means she's not anywhere near there, right?" Tian added, trying to be helpful.

"Bummer. Thanks anyway," Justin nodded and was about to be on his way when Lina called to him.

"Um, if you want, you can join our group. We'll look for her together," Lina offered. Justin thought for a moment.

"Really? Thanks! Um, sorry I have such a bad weapon," Justin replied as he sheepishly looked at his musket.

"Don't worry about it, our stuff isn't that great either," Tian smiled. "Lina has a Civil War pistol, and all I got was this pair of hiking boots. Well, time's wasting. Let's get a move on."

-----------------------------

Alice Li growled in anger as she observed the three companions travel by. "I could have used that revolver," she thought. Her Benelli M3 had a maximum capacity of nine shells, one of which she had used on Joseph Hicks. "I see I can't go at this alone. I need some allies."

-----------------------------

Bradley Awodu thought he was a goner once he found out what his weapon was. The instruction manual was not so much a booklet as a post-it note, with three very simple steps.

1. Cut a hole in the box

2. Put your junk in the box

3. Make her open the box

"What the fuck is this shit!?" he wanted to scream. He didn't, however, when he suddenly noticed a tall Caucasian male walk by. It was Robert Newberry, one of the most intelligent male students of the graduating class. He was not an unlikable person – if, that is, you got to know him. Bradley, however, never got to know him. He looked and saw that Robert's weapon appeared to be a set of brass knuckles.

Bradley's eyes narrowed. "OK, so I have to shoot in, go for a takedown, and choke him out." The plan of attack thus set, Bradley shot like a black bullet towards his adversary.

Bradley played American football, and his job was, as he described it, to "take a violent shit on the opposing QB's face." Robert never knew what hit him. All he felt was a sudden decrease in the air in his lungs as both adolescent males rolled around on the ground. Bradley soon had the dominant position, entering a rear mount from which he began applying pressure to Robert's neck in a perfectly executed rear naked choke.

Robert could feel everything about him turn black. Out of desperation, he punched at the dead weight holding on to his neck. The blow lacked power, but the brass knuckles on Robert's hands compensated for this somewhat. The first hit was a lucky one, brushing against Bradley's lips and drawing a small amount of blood. Bradley was ready for the second hit, however. As soon as he felt the shift in shoulder muscle that signaled a punch, Bradley grabbed Robert's wrist as it came and wrenched his leg over Robert's head, holding Robert in an armbar. Bradley then threw his weight backwards as hard as he could, until he felt the pop that signified a dislocation.

Pain and desperation allowed Robert to muster enough strength to throw Bradley off. Both fighters quickly got back up on their feet. With a surprising burst of strength, Robert lunged forward in a tackle that swept Bradley off his feet. Unfortunately for Robert, Bradley knew what he was doing. Even though Robert was on top, Bradley had his legs wrapped around the taller boy in the closed guard position. Robert tried to throw a punch, but Bradley blocked the blow and reached up to catch Robert in a guillotine choke.

Fighting someone well-versed in grappling is a frightening experience. Once the grappler has taken the fight to the ground, he can establish a dominant position from which to strike with impunity. The victim is usually placed in a state of panic. Not only is he running out of air, but he cannot stop the blows. As Robert slowly passed from one plane of existence to the next, the last thing he felt was not fear, but regret. He had such a bright future ahead of him...

-----------------------------

As soon as the fight was over, Falligant switched channels until she found the one focusing on Quan's progress. Her eyes lit up when he saw that Quan had crossed paths with Trevor Templeton. "Come on, Quan," she whispered, "stand and deliver."

-----------------------------

It was Falligant's lucky day. Trevor was armed with a harpoon gun, the kind that fired a spear attached to a line. The gun had a hand crank attached to the firing mechanism so that the spear could be retracted for repeated use. Trevor had not run into anyone yet, but from what he had heard, not everyone had a lethal weapon; some were given tools or non-lethal equipment. Thus, he resolved that he would minimize the deaths he caused. Should the first person he meets have a weapon, then he would fight. Else, he would only take their equipment but spare their lives.

From an objective point of view, this was but a way to make the self feel better. Without a weapon, a Battle Royale participant was as good as dead anyways.

Quan was lucky, for Trevor's shot was partially deflected by some low-hanging tree branches and buried itself in a nearby tree stump. His cover blown, Trevor tried to reload, but Quan proved swifter. His sword drawn, Quan made a mad dash for Trevor's location. Seeing that he would not be able to reload in time, Trevor grabbed a rather thick tree branch in a last ditch defense effort.

"Trying to kill me!" Quan roared as he brought his sword down on Trevor's head. Trevor raised his tree branch to block. Unfortunately, the branch was old and rotted, and Quan's swing broke first through it, then through Trevor's upper body.

Quan looked at his handiwork. He felt a tad queasy, but only a tad. After all, Trevor did fire the first shot. Saying nothing, Quan took Trevor's remaining gear for his own, then quickly left the vicinity.

-----------------------------

Falligant looked at Brownson. "Ten dollars, I believe the bet was."

Brownson delivered.

-----------------------------

_34 Students remain._


	6. Chapter 6: Highway to the Danger Zone

Chapter 6: Highway to the Danger Zone

-----------------------------

Back at the lighthouse, a plan was brewing.

Laura's face was dead serious when she proposed her plan of action. "Dhvani, we have to get off this island," she said to her friend. "We need to find everyone who's not playing this game. Maybe one of them will be a technical genius who can figure out a way to disable the collars or something."

Dhvani nodded. "Who do you suppose we look for first?"

Laura took out her GPS tracker. "From the looks of things, Grace is closest to where we are at the moment." She raised an eyebrow. "You don't think she's playing, do you?"

Both girls laughed at the thought before going on their way.

-----------------------------

"So, first plan of escape from Laura and Dhvani," Krueckl mused. She looked at Brownson and Falligant. "Told you so," she taunted.

Both teachers said nothing as they handed over several poker chips.

"You're right, Brownson," Krueckl added. "Using poker chips is easier than swapping cash."

-----------------------------

Of all the students selected, Grace Tran was quite possibly the worst equipped for Battle Royale. She was short, squeamish, jumpy, and the fact that Laura and Dhvani had found her before she ran into anyone dangerous could very well prove the existence of a benevolent God.

Grace's designated tool was a med kit. It was quite a useful piece of equipment, especially in a team situation, but its offensive capabilities consisted only of a set of safety scalpels.

"This will have to do," Laura said as she scanned the GPS for their next target. "Let's look for Rusi."

Now Rusi Yagnik was a skinny Indian who faced a personal dilemma when he was drafted into the game. He had recently taken a vow of nonviolence, a vow that would be sorely tested when he found that his weapon was an M4 carbine. Rusi had considered ditching the weapon, but soon abandoned this idea, reasoning that someone else who was playing for real might find it and use it for killing. Better to keep it, then, and prevent its use by the less scrupulous.

Rusi's plan was set. He would find easily defendable terrain, dig in, and hope for the best. The island was a big place, and it was almost time for the next declaration of danger zones before Laura, Dhvani, and Grace found him. This addition was a godsend to their team, for now they had an offensive weapon. Unfortunately, they had no one willing to use it. Rusi and Grace both politely refused, and while Laura and Dhvani could fire it with no moral qualms, firing it at someone with the intent to kill was a different issue.

"Who do we know that won't kill us, but has no problem killing other people?"

-----------------------------

"Hi ho merry subjects of torture!" Falligant's distinctive voice reverberated throughout the island. "Here's the list of your friends in the order they died.

Joseph Hicks. Shotgun blast to the head.

Robert Newberry. Strangulation.

Trevor Templeton. Nearly decapitated.

A decent effort. In half an hour, grids A12, G9, and C4 will become danger zones. Next announcement will come in six hours. Keep up the good work."

-----------------------------

In the same clearing that Trace made his first kill, a duel of champions was occurring. Will Meyers and Christopher "Nabz" Nabzdyk stared at each other, searching intently for an opening. Nabz had the advantage in reach, his cavalry lance outranging Will's spear by a good two feet. However, Will was more athletic, and this manifested itself in the fact that Nabz was cut and bleeding in several places, but Will was not.

Will lunged forward, but he suddenly stumbled mid-lunge and collapsed to the ground. Upon further inspection, one could see a bleeding hole in the back of his head, the result of a beautiful headshot from a Desert Eagle.

Chris Castagno stepped out from a cluster of bushes. "Tried to get me kicked out of NHS, the asshole did," he muttered before turning his attention to the other boy.

"Howdy, Nabz. Hey, you wanna travel together? It'd make surviving easier for the both of us," Castagno offered.

Nabz thought he was a goner for sure until those words. He nodded.

"Sweet," Castagno grinned. "Us ROTC badasses have to stick together!" he declared before reaching into his bag. "Here, take this Deagle," Castagno said as he tossed the pistol to Nabz. "It's got 8 bullets left," he added, "so aim carefully."

-----------------------------

Alice Li congratulated herself on her newest acquisition. Sneaking up on Mehwish Ismaily was not terribly difficult. A shot to the stomach from twenty yards away had netted her both a kill and the ammo voucher that Mehwish had been carrying. Alice read the words on the voucher carefully.

"The bearer of this certificate shall be entitled to additional ammunition for his or her weapon(s) not to exceed thirty rounds. Confiscate and destroy upon completion of transaction."

Alice cocked her head to the side. "Huh, this could be useful. I bet it'd be more useful if I had a gun that could shoot farther," she noted. Alice then looked at Mehwish's prone body. "Shame, really, that you didn't get a better weapon," she laughed before going on her way to search for her next victim.

-----------------------------

Kelly Chan eyed the cave with satisfaction. She was tired from hours of fruitless searching for Justin and decided to take a breather. After thoroughly inspecting the shelter, she found that it had only one opening. All she would have to do was to watch that one entrance and anyone attempting to barge in would be an easy target for her crossbow.

After a quick prayer, Kelly Chan soon unpacked her gear and laid herself down.

Now Kelly had not counted on someone having access to explosives. This was a bad assumption to make, as both Kar Ravji and Edwin Wu were assigned such weapons. However, Kar could not use his bomb vest without killing himself in the process, so the main threat came from Edwin, who was equipped with ten hand grenades.

Fortunately for Kelly, Edwin was nowhere near her position. He was, in fact, on the opposite side of the island.

-----------------------------

About the same time that Kelly chose her hiding spot, Edwin ran smack into Jill Gandhi. Jill was armed with an AK-47, the weapon of choice for insurgents and revolutionaries the world over. Both students realized that the other's weapon would be useful for their own purposes and opened fire. Edwin had the faster reaction time, his grenade flying in a perfect parabolic arc through the air. Unfortunately, they were fighting in a heavily forested area, and the projectile was caught on some low-hanging vines. Obliterated plant matter rained down, obscuring visibility throughout the entire area. The noise of their combat soon drew team of Castagno and Nabzdyk to the immediate vicinity.

"Dude, we have to take them down quickly so they don't use up all their ammo. Let's take grenade-boy first. Nabz, you go draw his attention while I circle around," Castagno ordered.

Edwin's attention was focused on the small grove in which Jill had taken cover. It was just a tad out of his throwing range, and he was about to change positions when Nabz fired two shots, one of which nearly clipped his ear. As he turned to face this new threat, Castagno saw his opportunity. He had snuck in quite close to his quarry, but he did not use his Remington 870. Instead, Castagno tackled Edwin, bringing both boys to the ground. Now Castagno had been trained in Marine Corps combatives, and Edwin soon found himself lying facedown on the ground with a broken neck, his life slowly ebbing away from him as he witnessed his weapons and equipment being taken by the ROTC duo.

"OK, same tactic," Castagno said as he turned his attention to the AK-wielding Indian girl. He paused for a bit. "Actually, I have a better idea. Give me one of them grenades."

Jill thought she was safe in her grove. "Come and get me. Just try it," she whispered to no one in particular. "I'll gun down every one of you mofos that get in my way."

Jill's location was fine for staying out of Edwin Wu's throwing range. Unfortunately for her, Chris Castagno played football. Jills eyes grew wide as she came to the realization that there was suddenly a smoking bomb right next to her. She tried to run, but Castagno had "cooked off" his grenade, holding on to it for a second before throwing it. The weapon exploded before Jill could take even one step, knocking her on her face. She struggled to get up and managed to crawl a few feet before coming face to face with the barrel of Castagno's shotgun.

"Dirty liberal," Castagno sneered before pulling the trigger. He then took note of Jill's weapon.

"AK-47?" It only had ten rounds left. Still, it was a good gun and had much greater range than either the Remington or the Desert Eagle. Besides, someone had an ammo voucher, and that had to count for something, right?

Next came the process of reapportioning weapons. The two allies now had three guns, and soon it was decided that Castagno would carry the shotgun and the Desert Eagle while Nabz would back him up with the AK. The remaining eight grenades would be split between the two of them. They also decided to keep the lance, as it might prove useful once all their ammunition was spent.

Castagno whistled a stirring military tune as he and Nabz marched on. Much to Nabz's chagrin, it was the Horst Wessel song.

-----------------------------

_30 Students remain._


	7. Chapter 7: Steering Wheel in Your Pants

Chapter 7: There's A Steering Wheel In Your Pants

"Man, that was some powerful shit," Stan laughed as he surveyed the patch of forest around him. He still felt a little trippy, but a few warm-up exercises quickly cleared his head. After plucking what he judged to be a sufficient supply of "magic leaf," Stan was soon on his quest to explore the forest and its wonderful plant life.

Stan was taking a breather when he sensed a female presence. This immediately raised his interest and caused a stirring in his loins, and he followed. Stan grinned.

"Violent-smoking-toking-sexing rampage, here I come!"

Lauren Reddish had an unsettling feeling that she was being watched. She quickly took out the instruction manual to her weapon and, after several minutes, managed to take off its safety and load a magazine.

"Who's there?" She called. No one answered.

Fate was on Lauren's side that day, for she turned right when Stan was about to make his move. Lauren screamed and fired a lucky shot that elicited a sharp cry of pain from Stan, who dropped his hammer and clutched his face.

Stan soon let go of his face, knelt down, and picked up his hammer. There was a look of maniacal rage on his face. Laruen's shot had been off. Instead of blowing Stan's brains out, the bullet tore into his cheek, grotesquely lengthening his mouth by a good two inches. Lauren attempted to back away, but she tripped on a tree root and could only look on in shock as Stan slowly and deliberately advanced on her.

"You biff," Stan growled in anger as he raised his hammer to strike. "You filffy, filffy, biff. Y'ull barery haff eyesh to shee ow of, by ze chime I'm shrough wiff you."

Lauren screamed in fear and ran. Stan was not so willing to let his victim get away so easily and took off in pursuit.

Unfortunately for both Stan and Lauren, their path took them to the edge of a cliff. It was not particularly tall, and someone like Quan or Castagno might be able to jump off of it with no problems. Lauren, however, was surprised by the sudden change in topography. She tried to slow down, only to trip on a rock and experience a short drop and a sudden stop.

"Shon of a biff!" Stan shouted in frustration. He could jump down, but necrophilia was definitely not his thing. Still fuming, he turned his attentions to his wound.

"This is going to hurt," he thought, as he took out Justin's lighter.

Lauren's fall proved a godsend for Justin Wei. He was wandering around the bottom of the cliff when a sickening thud alerted him that there was someone around the vicinity. Justin had been equipped with a chainsaw. He thought that was pretty good until he heard gunshots in the forest that Alice Li had ended Joseph Hicks. Thus he came to the realization that he was going to need some better equipment if he wanted to survive.

He approached Lauren's body with caution and examined it. Lauren had fallen headfirst, and the impact had broken her neck. Her eyes still bulged with fear even in death, and Justin reached forward and closed her eyelids, unable to stomach the sight. He then turned to the weapon she still cradled.

Justin's eyes grew wide.

"An Accuracy International AWP sniper rifle? This will be useful," Justin noted. "How l337." With that, he scanned his map and saw that there was a lighthouse nearby. Thinking it would make the perfect sniping post, Justin was soon on his way.

When Stan finally reached Lauren's body, he was angered even more that her weapon had already been taken by another. Seeing as there was really nothing he could do, he then turned to the problem of his split cheek. His attempt at first aid was successful, but the lower half of his cheek was like a dead weight on his face that annoyed him to no end.

Lauren had no adhesive material in her pack. She did have a head full of long hair, and Stan soon drew inspiration from one of the many fucked-up Japanese movies he had seen. After pulling out a handful of hair from Lauren's scalp and producing a nail from his own pack, Stan set to the quite painful task of stitching himself up.

Now Alice Li's quest for allies ended quite successfully. She had happened upon Helen Fu, who was assigned a riot shield. Alice had approached her quietly, making sure to hide the ammo voucher and the weapons list so that Helen would not suspect that she was intent on winning the game. After some wandering, they managed to hook up with Rendell, who was still carrying a semi-conscious Connie.

Alice Li looked at their weapons. A riot shield, a submachine gun, a semi-automatic pistol, and a boomerang. Not too shabby, save for the last item. Her thoughts then turned to how to obtain these weapons for herself.

Carissa Huq was quite worried that she was still alone this late into the game. Thus, she was relieved to come upon Rushi Dave. She was less than relieved, however, to see that his weapon was a tennis racquet and three tennis balls.

"Hey, look on the bright side; at least it's a ranged weapon, right?" Rushi tried to reassure Carissa, but he was not too confident of their chances of survival either. "At any rate, let's get going. Maybe we'll run into someone with something good, or something."

David Tian was a samurai. At least, he always wanted to be one, so he was pretty excited when he saw that his weapon was a katana. However, he soon learned that others on the island had guns, and his countenance fell. Knowing that he would probably not survive, what option was left to him?

He considered seppuku but ditched the idea almost immediately. "A samurai must be willing to live as though already dead," he thought as he made his decision. David Tian found a clearing next to a wooded area. He would fight the first person he saw, and if he died, he would die with honor.

It was not long before Quan had happened on the vicinity, harpoon gun at the ready.

"Banzai!" came David's battle cry as he rushed forward, katana held high.

"Dude, what the hell?" Quan yelled as he parried a thrust with his harpoon gun before drawing his own sword. He blocked David's follow-up slash, placing both blades in a bind, and attempted to reason with his friend. But David was beyond all reason, and he kicked Quan away before resuming his attack.

Quan's eyes narrowed. "Well, if that's the way you want it, then fine, I'll play," he growled as he met a sideways cut with a block, then knelt down and swung his sword at David's kneecaps. David jumped over the low attack, retaliating with a downward swing. Quan's parry led to a cut and thrust combo that pushed David back. The back-and-forth continued until both fighters' swords were caught in a bind again. Quan and David each pushed, each trying to press his blade into the other's jugular.

Small notches could be seen on Quan's sword. The katana was, after all, an extremely well-crafted weapon. But Quan's blade was exactly designed to do battle with the Japanese katana. The Chinese broadsword, contrary to its depiction in Shaw Brothers kung fu flicks, was a sturdy piece of work, and if one looked closely, one could see that David's blade was rather battered and slightly bent.

Their combat was suddenly interrupted by a piercing scream that brought both David and Quan to their senses.

Deepika Mutyala bolted out of the woods, a frantic look in her eyes. Her shirt was ripped in several places, as was her skirt. Shortly thereafter, Stan came staggering out, yelling in anger.

Stan had fixed his oral wound; he had stitched it together using bits of Lauren's hair. It solved his speaking problem, but he had a more pressing issue at the moment. Earlier, he had tried to force himself on Deepika only to receive a full blast to the face from her designated weapon, a can of mace. His eyes were red and still tearing from the blast, and he was going to get some revenge (and something else, too).

Unfortunately for Stan, two sharp metal objects blocked his way. Quan's broadsword and David's katana were both pointed at his throat, forcing him to stop in his tracks.

"There is no honor in forcing yourself on a woman," David said with great severity. Quan rolled his eyes at the melodramaticness of David's comment.

"Yeah, both of us detest that sort of thing," Quan added. "I may be a violent bastard, but I've got standards. So why don't you make like a tree and get the fuck outta here?"

Stan's thoughts first turned to his burning eyes, then to the two swordsmen in from of him, then to Deepika's figure behind them, and finally to his unsatisfied libido.

"God damn it," he growled before slinking off to slake his thirst elsewhere. "This is driving me nuts!"

_29 Students remain._


	8. Chapter 8: Analyze This, Part II

Chapter 8: Analyze This, Part II

-----------------------------

"It's your turn, Krueckl," Falligant said as she handed over a microphone and a script. Christina Krueckl took the items. After doing a few equipment checks, her voice rang loud and clear throughout the island.

"OK, um, here's everyone that's died since the last announcement:

Will Meyers. Headshot.

Mehwish Ismaily. Shotgun to the midsection.

Edwin Wu. Broken neck.

Jill Gandhi. Headshot.

Lauren Reddish. A rather bad fall.

Wait a minute, she _fell_ to her death? That's poor. How anti-climatic. Um, B10, C10, and L1 will become Danger Zones in half an hour. As always, next announcement comes in six hours. Good luck."

-----------------------------

The action soon slowed throughout the island as the remaining students sat down and prepared dinner from their survival kits. Some groups went for caution, forcing one of their members to go on sentry duty as the other ate. Others opted for a friendlier atmosphere, complete with campfire and s'mores. Even then, everyone was on edge, as an attack might come at any moment.

Back in the bunker, things were much more relaxed. "Hey guys, guess what I have?" Brownson announced as he entered the central command room.

"Robots," came Falligant's response.

"No, I have pizza. If you want robots, well, I'm sorry. All means of production have been allocated to the production of pizza. We can still make robots, but each successive robot will cost us more units of pizza," Brownson replied. Falligant and Krueckl looked at him quizzically.

"Sorry. Old economics joke. I really do have pizza though," Brownson explained as he opened a thermos box. "Dig in."

Before they were drafted for the Battle Royale program, each of the three administrative personnel led fulfilling and purposeful lives. Brownson taught AP Government and Economics, Krueckel taught AP Chemistry, and Falligant taught AP English. As they ate, the conversation turned, as conversations between teachers inevitably do, to their students' progress.

"So tell me, Krueckl," Falligant inquired with a slightly awkward expression on her face. "If Stan succeeds in his...quest, and we watch him, does that make us pedophiles?"

Krueckl thought for a minute, then quickly answered. "Well, he's 18, so no. That's still pretty gross though, why would you do that?"

Falligant nodded. "Just a hypothetical situation. Don't worry, Krueckl, I'll change the channel if that actually came up."

Slightly disgusted by the way the conversation was headed, Brownson attempted to change the subject. "OK, enough talk of our former students playing grab-ass with each other. Who do you think is most likely to come out of this thing alive?"

There was silence around the dinner table. "Castagno's doing really well," Falligant answered. "Right now I'd say he has the best shot of winning." She paused before resuming her analysis. "I wouldn't write off Alice Li, though," Falligant added. "She's proven herself to be quite capable at adapting."

Brownson nodded. "Quan's been disappointing, no? I would have expected him to go on the 'violent-sexing-rampage' already. I guess he's one of those types, eh? The warrior who has a code and adheres to that code no matter what?"

"Must be," Falligant concurred. "Shame, because that means he's going to die once he meets someone who understands that there are no rules in this game. When will these people realize that 'warrior codes' are really more like guidelines?"

At this point, Krueckl spoke up. "So, Alice Li, Castagno, Stan, Trace, and I guess Bradley are playing for real."

Falligant nodded. "Yup. Trace is really loving that theatrical dagger we gave him." She laughed. "While we're at it, let's analyze how the various people are doing, shall we?

"Yeah, Castagno is in the lead by sheer amount of kills. Him and that Nabzdyk kid make a pretty good team, wonder if it'll last? They have some of the better weapons – a shotgun, a pistol, an assault rifle, grenades, and that cavalry lance in case they run out of ammo. That, and the fact that Castagno is like THE outdoorsman out of everyone here, is why I think they'll make it to the end of the game.

"Next is Alice, who's currently taking refuge with Randell, Connie, and Helen. I wonder what she's got planned for them. Their weapon are pretty good – a shotgun, a riot shield, a pistol, and an SMG. Connie's boomerang is kind of useless though, but that's fine. Hmm, Alice also has the ammo voucher and the weapons list. That, in my opinion, is going to be a major reason for her survival.

"As for the other so-called 'serious' people, I don't see them surviving. Trace's little trick is only going to work on someone who's traveling alone. Now that pretty much everyone's formed a group, he's going to have to change tactics if he wants to stay alive. Stan seems to be just taking this chance to cut loose like he's been possessed by the Lord of the Flies, and Bradley is goofing around, as usual. None of them have any serious firepower.

"Let's see, what's everyone else up to? Laura, Dhvani, Grace, and Rusi are still looking for a way out. They've got a pretty good group as far as equipment is concerned, especially for what they're after. That GPS tracker lets them search for friendly people while avoiding the dangerous ones. The bulletproof vest and medkit definitely helps. Looks like they decided Dhvani's going to carry the carbine. Of course, I guess they've forgotten that we're listening in on their conversations.

"Justin Yip wants to look for his girlfriend, who's hiding in a hole waiting for him – aww, it's like Cold-Mountain. He's hanging with Tian and Lina right now. I guess the two of them just want to survive for as long as they can. They have a better shot than some of the other people, though. At least they have the LeMat, a gun that's useful. Justin's musket might scare off the less gutsy, and it looks like Tian hasn't found the secret to her hiking boots yet.

"I think that accounts for all the guns. Rushi and Carissa are traveling together; he's trying to protect her, how cute. Although, they only have melee weapons, which pretty much means they need to hope that Laura and Dhvani's group finds them pretty quickly.

Alice Yang and Khushbu are also teaming up. Nunchaku and Swiss army knife. Their strategy should be the same as Rushi and Carissa's. Megha, Cheryl, and Melissa; Taser, rope, and ginsu knife, no news from them yet. Quan, David and Deepica are currently roaming the island. I guess they're looking for better weapons and trying to surprise people while they're eating. They have a better shot than the other melee groups; at least they have a ranged weapon in the form of that harpoon gun, and it seems like Quan is trying to formulate some kind of plan of attack.

"So who's alone right now? Stan, Bradley, Kelly, and Trace we've already discussed. That leaves Kar and Justin Wei, who coincidentally are also the people most likely to cause damage to us. Kar's got that explosive vest, and Justin has the sniper rifle. If they decide to join Laura and Dhvani's group, that will be troublesome, but it's nothing we can't handle. Right, that's everybody. Are you going to eat that last slice of cheese pizza, Brownson?"

-----------------------------

_29 Students remain._


	9. Chapter 9: Music of the Night

Chapter 9: Music of the Night

-----------------------------

"Right, let's go over the plan one more time," Quan addressed his teammates. "Since Deepica seems to have an intuitive grasp of the finer points of navigating, there will be no need for me to supervise her. So, here's how this is going to work. Deepica is our navigator. She'll be leading us to this abandoned building." Quan stopped to point at a small white dot on his map before continuing. "David will follow closely and watch Deepica's back. He'll wear my camo clothing and use his mad ninja skills to stay hidden." He then turned to address Deepica. "The point of this is so that if someone attacks you, he can burst from the bushes and start shanking the motherfucker. I'll be a bit farther back, bringing up the rear as well as covering you guys with the harpoon gun.

"If you meet anyone dangerous, well, you've got two options. One, you could hit him with the mace, and while he's disabled, David will katana his dumb ass. David's a good fighter, and in most cases you won't have a thing to worry about, but if he can't handle the other guy he'll maneuver so I have a clear shot with the harpoon.

"Two, you can use your feminine wiles to, ah, entrap the bugger, in which case David's and my parts are still the same. Remember, David will always be on your left, and I will always be on your right. Keep that in mind when you're maneuvering. Any questions?"

There were none. "Good." Quan nodded. "Let's get a move on."

-----------------------------

Meanwhile, not too far from where Quan's group was making its way, another leader was making her own address.

"Right now, Castagno and Chris Nabzdyk are the two biggest threats to our existence. They have a lot of guns, and they're not shy about using them. I say we take them out somehow," Alice Li proposed.

"And how do you suppose we do that?" Randell replied skeptically. He pointed at Connie before continuing. "Might I remind you, we're saddled with a wounded trooper. Castagno knows how to use his pieces. And from what you've told me, this Nabzdyk is no slouch either. Of our little group, I'm the only one with any firearms experience. Guns aren't wands of instant death, Alice. You have to have skill to use them well, especially since we're short on ammo."

Alice's eyes narrowed. "Then we'll have to find some more people. Now, it's about to get dark, and people are going to be looking for shelter. I suggest we start looking for allies at all the abandoned buildings." She smiled. "When you can't win with quality, overwhelm with quantity. That's the Mao Zedong way."

-----------------------------

Kar Ravji was, to put it mildly, an Indian super-liberal. He knew his weapon was useless ("A suicide bomb vest? It's because I'm brown, isn't it!"), but only in the sense that its use would result in his own death. After some consideration, Kar realized that the true utility of his bomb vest was not in its explosive capabilities, but in its ability to prevent harm. People armed with short-range weapons generally do not attack people who can hit everything within a thirty-yard radius with a mutilating blast of fire and shrapnel. Mutually assured destruction provided a perfect absolute defense.

Thus it was a good thing that Kar had not lost his rationality when Laura and Dhvani's group came upon him. They had figured that Kar's beliefs would naturally make him morally opposed to the Battle Royale program. They were right. Kar was up and ready for a chance to take down The Man.

It was starting to get dark, and the group of revolutionaries was about to head on back when Laura looked upon her GPS and saw a problem. An unknown boy, Justin Wei had set up shop in their lighthouse base.

"Justin Wei...who is he?" Laura asked. Her inquiry was met with blank stares.

"I think he was in my physics class," Rusi replied. "Uh...he was really quiet though. I don't know if he's actually taking this thing seriously or not." He paused. "But Justin's really smart. I think we should try to get him on our side."

Laura and Dhvani were all about democracy. After a vote, it was decided that they would head back to the lighthouse. It would be nightfall by the time they got there. If Justin was playing for real, then at least the darkness would impair his visibility.

Fortunately, Justin Wei was not an unreasonable person. He found Laura's plan rather appealing, especially since the box magazine to his AWP only had four bullets remaining. He was not too pleased, however, with the way the plan had been going.

"You do realize that there's a tiny microphone inside the collars, right? They're listening in to your conversations," Justin explained. "So, basically, they know you're planning something. And judging by how they announce not just who died, but also how they died, the admins probably have some way of watching what we're doing also." He took out a pen and a sheet of paper. "Even then, it's still difficult for them to read this stuff. Especially with my handwriting. This is how we communicate from now on, 'k?"

-----------------------------

Now, Quan's group made it to shelter with no difficulty. It was a somewhat recently built house, complete with indoor plumbing and kitchen. Once dinner and living quarters were prepared and plans for the next day were made, thoughts turned to security.

"Now, David, you say the human body sleeps best in cycles of three hours? Eh, I really don't know, so let's assume that's true. It's 8:47PM right now, so here's how watches are going to work. First watch is going to be from now to when they announce the danger zones. Second watch will be for the next three hours and third watch until the next announcement danger zones Assuming, of course, that this place doesn't become dangerous. Now, Deepica, you take third watch. You're the navigator, and a couple extra hours of awake time make the mind clearer. As for the other two shifts, well, me and David'll just have to Chinese drinking game for it."

The scene that followed was not easily describable. Suffice to say it would not have been out of place in Shanghai Noon or some other Jackie Chan movie.

-----------------------------

"Man, up until now the boys were dropping like flies," Brownson noted. "Vlad Catoi, Tom Yu, Justin Ly, Trevor Templeton, Tom Creegan, Will Meyers, Edwin Wu, Joseph Hicks, and Robert Newberry. Girls seem to have better luck. Mehwish, Yolanda, Jill, Lauren Reddish. That's a 13 to 4 gender ratio. The Japanese programs seem to have similar trends. I wonder why?"

"Well, it's only natural," Krueckl answered. "Think aboot it. Typically, you don't see a lot of male cooperation. Male animals want to fight each other so they get first dibs on the females, so to speak. Females tend to travel in herds protected by an alpha male. Point is, girls tend to be more cooperative and rapport-building, and boys tend to prefer striking oot on their own. It's a biological pro-cess."

Falligant raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were a chemistry teacher."

"Yeah, a chemistry teacher who happens to have the National Geographic Channel. Anyhoo, I think it's time to announce the Danger Zones."

-----------------------------

Castagno and Nabz had found shelter for the night, but before assigning watches, they had a philosophical discussion.

"I'm looking at the list of participants, Nabz," Castagno said. "A lot of us guys are dying off. Now, I know you're a man like me, and men don't kill women, but it seems we need to for our survival."

Nabz nodded. "Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked up at the stars. "But it doesn't sit too well with me...and I still find the morality of it all rather dubious."

Castagno looked his ally straight in the eye before continuing. "Look, Nabz, we're fighting for our survival here. There can't be any mistakes or hesitation when people are shooting at us." He thought for a minute before continuing. "Nabz, are you familiar with an author named Robert A. Heinlein?"

"Yeah...Starship Troopers, right?"

Castagno nodded. "Quan once sent me a copy of his speech to a class of Annapolis graduates. The Pragmatics of Patriotism, it was called. Anyways, in this speech, he makes a really grand argument that morality is tied directly to the instinct to survive. And personally, I think he's right. If you think of behavior that most cultures have accepted as moral – things like trustworthiness, and responsibility, and honor – these things are moral because they contribute to survival. That's the important thing here, Nabz. That's why the two of us are allying with each other instead of trying to shoot each other to pieces. Survival."

Castagno got up. "As for which one of us survives to the end, well, we'll settle that once we get there. No point in the two best people dying before their time, eh? You sleep on that for a couple of hours. I'll take first watch."

-----------------------------

Nothing happened for the next twelve hours. Danger Zones were announced, and some relocating occurred, but there were no casualties. The program administrators were quite alarmed. One, such a situation is quite boring. Two, Laura and Dhvani's little group was now starting to pose a serious threat.

It was now noon, and the loudspeakers buzzed again with a danger zone announcement.

"So, no has died since the last announcement. That's really poor, you guys. Just to remind you, all the collars will detonate if there are no deaths in 24 hours. 18 hours have passed, which means one of you must die within the next 6 hours or all of you die. Also, to help you find each other, we've decided to double the amount of danger zones added per six hours."

The zones were announced, and all across the island, students stirred like ants on a hot pot.

-----------------------------

_29 students remain._


	10. Chapter 10: Brotherhood of War

Chapter 10: Brotherhood of War

-----------------------------

Tian, Lina, and Justin Yip surveyed their new allies with relief. Alice Li's crew were armed to the teeth, it seemed, with semi-automatic and automatics weapons that completely dominated Lina's Civil War revolver and Justin's Revolutionary War musket. Although Tian had thought that Alice seemed a bit overzealous upon seeing that there were new guns to be had, she soon wrote off this concern as simple paranoia. Alice seemed dedicated to her group's survival.

Now Alice was the valedictorian, and people naturally looked to her for leadership in this dark hour. However, Alice was also going to NYU and had a bright future ahead of her. The same ambition that got her valedictorian now told her that winning the Battle Royale wasn't everything. It was the only thing. As for her group members, well, they were but stepping stones to her path to victory.

The leader turned to address her followers. "Who do you think is the biggest threat to our existence right now? I'll tell you. Definitely Castagno..."

-----------------------------

Carissa was growing quite agitated with her newfound allies. Rushi Dave and Bradley Awodu were fine alone. Put them together, however, and the situation soon turned into cacophonous chaos.

"Hey guys, I think we should head east. There's Danger Zones north of us, and I think I heard gunshots to the west," Rushi suggested.

"That's where we're headed, you fucktard," came Bradley's reply. "God damn, Rushi can you shut up? You're so gay."

"You're gay," Rushi retorted. "Besides, who was it who was about to run into a danger zone before we found him? If it hadn't been for us, you would've been capped."

Before Rushi could say more, Bradley drowned him out with more angry words. "You want to start something? You don't want to start something with me, boy. I don't play no games, nigga, I'll fuck you up like Cro-Cop!"

Webster defines a "nigga moment" a situation in which ignorance overwhelms the mind of an otherwise logical African American male, causing him to act in an illogical self-destructive manner. Such a moment might have occurred had the voice of reason not intervened.

"Will the both of you be quiet for just one second!" Carissa screeched. "Stop it. You're acting like children. Play nice." Bradley and Rushi exchanged glares, then backed off, much to Carissa's relief.

"That's better," Carissa thought. "Oh, my God, I am so not having kids if this is what it's like."

-----------------------------

After a rather nice "leaf therapy" session, Stan soon came to the body of Trace Thurman. There was a dagger sticking out of his stomach, and his eyes were wide open. Apparently someone surprised him and ran off, unable to deal with what they had just done.

Stan, however, discovered something odd with the picture. First off, Trace was still clutching his baseball bat. Now, if someone had stuck him with a dagger, why would they leave their weapon? Stan decided to stay for a while and observe.

Sure enough, Trace couldn't hold his breath forever. As he prepared to leap upon Stan, he suddenly saw that Stan was only armed with a claw hammer. A thought soon occurred to Trace.

"Well, now that you know what my plan is, might we have an arrangement?"

Stan nodded. "Of course, my good man, as long as you can accept the fact that Jesus was black, Ronald Reagan was the devil, and the government was lying about 9-11."

"Done," Trace replied. "You know, Stan, you are such an articulate speaker!"

-----------------------------

Back at the command bunker, there was a collective gasp.

"Wow. I so did not know that," Brownson uttered in shock. "If there was a crowd of white people in this room, I think they would riot."

"Well, if you think about it," Falligant mused. "Ronald Wilson Reagan. Six letters in each name. 6-6-6. Guess it's not a coincidence after all."

"No way," Krueckl replied. "Next thing you'll be telling me that you can tame America's white supremacist power structure with cheese."

-----------------------------

"Autobots, transform and roll out," Laura wrote. The plan was set, and the revolutionaries immediately began their campaign.

-----------------------------

"See that?" Castagno pointed to a pair of travelers. "They've been running around in circles for the past three hours." He turned to Nabz. "Now, they might have something useful, and that Indian chick is looking mighty nubile, so we're going to nail 'em. Besides, if no one dies by the next danger zone announcement, we all go kaboom. So really, we're doing everyone on this island a big favor."

-----------------------------

"Alice, I think we're lost," Khushbu sighed.

Alice Yang barely had time to reply when a shotgun blast tore into the back of her head. Khushbu screamed and took off running.

"Oh you're not getting away from me, missy," Castagno grinned as he gave chase.

Like a deer in flight Khushbu ran. Unfortunately for her, Castagno was a master hunter. Prior to starting his attack, he spent a few minutes consulting his map and determining his quarry's most likely escape route. Castagno's efforts were not wasted as things turned out exactly the way he had predicted.

Khushbu was quite surprised to see a large Polish boy with an AK-47 standing between her and freedom. She froze, and then adrenaline took over.

Despite the pep talk from the night before, Nabz still had reservations about shooting the girl standing before him. These reservations all but disappeared when her Swiss Army knife buried itself in his shoulder. Fortunately for Nabz, the blade was but two inches long. It still hurt like a bitch, but Nabz would live through the encounter.

The wound did anger him though, and he dealt Khushbu a rather severe blow with the butt of his rifle. Khushbu was winded, but desperation gave her a much needed burst of speed. She pushed past Nabz and ran for her life. As Khushbu turned, she was relieved to see that Nabz had first dropped his rifle, then his pack in a gentlemanly display of mercy.

Unfortunately, this was a gross misinterpretation of Nabz's true intent. Khushbu's attack had removed all uncertainties from Nabz's mind that his own survival came first. He could afford to be chivalrous only when he got off the island. Nabz's eyes grew blood-red as he calmly made his move.

Nabz hefted his cavalry lance, took aim, and threw. His pack was heavy. It threw him off balance, and his target was far away. His rifle was low on ammunition, and he must conserve precious bullets. The lance sailed through the air in a trajectory that would have earned the approval of King Leonidas, and a dull splort could be heard as it entered Khushbu's midsection.

The one positive side to this turn of events was that Khushbu's death came quickly. One minute she was running, the next she was lying prone on the ground, bearing a grotesque resemblance to a butterfly that had the misfortune of becoming part of an entomologist's collection.

The blood haze lifted from Nabz's eyes, and he sat down, feeling as if a bit of his humanity had left him.

-----------------------------

"The Asian girl was carrying a set of nunchucks. Useless. That brown girl's Swiss Army knife could be useful though," Castagno noted as he pocketed Khushbu's weapon and turned his attention to Nabzdyk's wound. "Here, Nabz, let me take care of that for you."

-----------------------------

"Everyone, quiet!" Carissa ordered. Her group had witnessed everything, from Castagno's gunshot to Nabz's expert javelin throw. "OK, we don't have anything to fight them with, so we're going to hide and hope whoever that was goes away."

"Oh my god, we're all going to die," Rushi whispered.

"Rushi, shut the fuck up! Bradley shouted.

"Bradley! You're giving away our position!" came Carissa's angry reply.

-----------------------------

"Hey what was that?" Castagno immediately cocked his shotgun and brought it to eye level. He turned to Nabz. "Think you can move with that wound?"

Nabz grinned. "It's only a flesh wound. Besides, it's just a shoulder. God saw fit to grace me with a spare."

"Good," Castagno replied. "Let's hunt some wabbits."

-----------------------------

There are some girls that could easily be mistaken for men. Carissa was not one of those girls. Her long silky hair, fine delicate features, and shapely figure gave the appearance of a porcelain doll.

"God damn it, Bradley! Now look what you've done!" Carissa roared as those fine delicate features bunched up in a monstrous mask of anger. Such was her fury that a full company of Spartans would have dropped their shields and returned home.

Rushi tried to ameliorate the situation. "Carissa, calm down," he reasoned. "The way you're acting right now is liable to draw them closer to us. Come on, let's go."

Tears began streaming down Carissa's eyes. "Where can we go? They have guns, we don't. They're experienced at all this outdoors stuff. We're not. Fight or flight, in the long run we're all dead." She handed Rushi one of her hook swords. "I'd rather die at the hands of a friend. Do it."

Now Carissa was one of the strong female types, and the sight of her breaking down like was quite unsettling for both Rushi and Bradley. "Carissa, I'm sorry. That was a nigga moment," Bradley spoke up. "Look, I'll draw their attention. Y'all two run. It's the least I can do for fucking things up."

"Hey Bradley, I'm joining you. Us guys can die, but we can't let the lady come to any harm, right?" Rushi handed Carissa back her hook sword. "I'll die before I let you come to harm. Believe it."

Carissa did not relish the prospect of leaving the two boys like this. However, time was short, and they soon convinced her that this was indeed the best choice.

"Here, take my supplies," Bradley said. "Don't think I'll need it. I'll take those hook swords, though." He then turned to Rushi. "Hey man, I'm sorry for all the abuse in the past."

"Don't worry about it," Rushi replied. "You can make it up to me later, if we actually survive through this."

"Yeah." Bradley's eyes hardened, and he assumed a fighting stance. "Let's do this, bruh."

-----------------------------

_27 students remain._


	11. Chapter 11: Fifth of November

Chapter 11: Fifth of November

-----------------------------

"Man, I can't believe they're actually doing this," Brownson chuckled.

"It was a nice plan, but nothing we can't counter," Falligant replied. "You two stay in the bunker. I'll take care of it. Oh, and save some pizza for me," Falligant called as she walked over to a safe, took out various weapons and equipment, and headed out.

"Fally!" Krueckl called. "You might want this," she advised as she tossed Falligant a small remote.

"Ah, I might indeed. Thank you." With a curt nod, Falligant was off.

-----------------------------

Laura's group had finally arrived at the north wall to the command bunker. She looked over her teammates. Everyone was in position.

The attack started with a shot from Justin's AWP that took out a sentry on the bunker's east wall. The attack drew sentries from the other defensive positions, and as they congregated to investigate the matter, Laura saw her chance. "Go go go!" She shouted.

Kar, Dhvani, and Laura rushed in through the north wall in an attempt to break into the main bunker. The plan was not perfect, but it was the best they could come up with. Justin would be in the trees providing sniper support. Dhvani would carry the M4 carbine for close-range fighting. Laura would take the chainsaw as both a close-quarters weapon and a door-opener. Once they managed to force entry, it was hoped that Kar could use his suicide bomb to hold the administrators hostage.

Even though Battle Royale was a secret project, and there had been no time for an Iron Triangle between Congress, interest groups, and the bureaucracy to form, the program had the backing of the Department of Defense. No expense was spared in providing security personnel to the program administrators. These skilled and talented men and women came from all sorts of martial backgrounds, from SEALS to Texas Rangers to ex-Afghan warlords. However, Dhvani and Laura had surprise on their side. They had made it to the front door and were about to chainsaw away when the door suddenly opened.

A flock of doves flew out, startling the revolutionaries enough for Falligant to hit them with a tear gas grenade. The non-lethal assault knocked Laura and Dhvani back, causing a long enough break in the action for the guns-for-hire to regroup and form up around Falligant.

"Cease fire!" Falligant ordered from under her gas mask. "Hajji Halef Omar, stop shooting. I want to taunt them for a little while." She then turned to Laura's group, whose eyes were still red and watery, and grinned.

"Well, it was fun while it lasted. Laura, Dhvani, the plan wasn't perfect, but at least you didn't do something totally dumb like, say, trying to blow this place up by setting your blood on fire. Blood is not an explosive, as I'm sure you remember from my class." She then turned her attention to Kar.

"Kar, Kar, Kar. I would have thought that you had learned your lesson from the East of Eden debacle. You can't fight the system, Kar. And when you try to fight the system-" Falligant suddenly noticed Kar's hand snaking up to the controls of his suicide bomb vest. She immediately brought up her remote control and pressed a few buttons.

The Battle Royale collars were marvelous devices, tiny compact amalgamations of microphone, pulse monitor, GPS receiver, and of course, bomb. It was safe to say that everyone on the island expected the collar's detonation to be a gigantic decapitating boom. However, because the bomb had to compete for space with so many other gadgets, its effect on Kar was a bit anti-climactic. There was a small poof, followed by a spray of red tissue that revealed a bleeding gap where Kar's Adam's apple used to be.

"As I was saying, when you try to fight the system, well, the system fights back, and the system hits with a lot more power than you can imagine." Falligant finished her spiel only to find herself staring down the barrel of Dhvani's carbine.

"What, you still haven't learned your lesson? You cannot destroy the program simply by me. The Battle Royale is not merely a tangible thing. Battle Royale is an idea, and ideas are bulletproof. Besides, I can turn this entire grid into a danger zone at the press of a button, and even if you kill me, you still have Brownson and Krueckl to consider." She then raised her voice, clearly intending for Justin Wei to hear her next words. "As for your sniper in the trees, well, he should be careful. He only has two bullets left in that AWP. Now he could provide you with cover fire, after which his ammo would run out, Brownson would turn this place into a danger zone, and he would have no way of retrieving your weapons."

Falligant smiled. "Or, if he's a smart kid who plays by the rules, he could head to the grid directly west of this one, and if he waits for a few minutes he might find that there might possibly be some additional ammunition available."

Now, Justin was a smart kid, and he needed no prodding from Falligant to understand that he was in a rather disadvantageous situation that could be quickly remedied. He quietly moseyed on over to the designated spot and waited.

"As Quan would say, 'I win.'" Falligant pressed another button on her remote. There was a gurgling scream from Laura, followed by a sound of thunder as Dhvani managed to get off a shot before her throat exploded. Falligant, too, fell backwards with a grunt. A second later, she brushed herself off and got back up.

"You're not the only one with a bulletproof vest," she laughed as she turned to address her troops. "Oye, Chico. Go see to Justin's ammunition. Give him another clip; that should be enough."

Then, to everyone's surprise, she began to recite an old English nursery rhyme.

"Remember, remember the fifth of November,

The gunpowder, treason, and plot.

I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason

Should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent

To blow up the King and Parliament.

Three score barrels of powder below,

Poor old England to overthrow;

By God's providence he was catch'd

With a dark lantern and burning match.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

Hip hip hoorah!"

After some more laughter, Falligant turned and strode back to the command bunker.

-----------------------------

"Attention all students, grid F7 is now a danger zone. Oh, and please don't get any bright ideas about attacking the command bunker. Several of your friends have already tried that. Needless to say, it didn't work."

-----------------------------

_24 students remain._


	12. Chapter 12: Operation Wolf

Chapter 12: Operation Wolf

-----------------------------

"Well, now they're certain to find each other," Falligant noted as she observed a large screen that was essentially a giant version of Laura's GPS tracker. She looked at Brownson and Krueckl.

"Any bets as to who gets here first?"

-----------------------------

It had been determined that one of the major failings in the administration of this current program was that the battlefield was too big, and that it had been difficult for the students to find each other. Despite the doubling of danger zones per announcement, Falligant decided that her students still needed prodding to help speed up the program. Thus, she made it common knowledge that Laura and Dhvani's plot had failed.

Since theirs was an armed revolution, the failure must mean that all participants were dead. This, in turn, meant that there were free weapons to be had. All across the island, students hurried to grid G7.

-----------------------------

Now the closest group to the command bunker was Alice Li's grand alliance. However, even though Connie's wound had been getting better, it still slowed her down and, as a result, impeded her group's progress. Thus, the first group to happen upon the site of the Guy Fawkes plot was Cheryl's small clique.

"We're right on the edge of a danger zone," Megha noted. "So, any ideas how to get a hold of that gear?"

"Well, Melissa's boyfriend was in the Army. I don't know why I thought of that," Cheryl replied. Suddenly, her mind turned to her designated weapon. "Oh snap, I got it," she cried. Cheryl quickly took out her rope and, in the space of a minute, fashioned it into a reasonable lasso.

"Go fish," Cheryl muttered as she set her sights on Dhvani's M4 carbine. The first throw missed, but the second throw hooked on to the gun's magazine.

"Yes! I win!" Cheryl gave a jubilant cry of celebration as she reeled in the weapon and cradled it in her hands. She then saw that Melissa had a strange expression on her face. "What?" Cheryl asked.

Melissa smiled. "Oh, name one thing you're going to need the fucking rope for," she taunted.

-----------------------------

Castagno's group was rather unfortunate. Not only were they the group farthest from the command bunker, but Rushi and Bradley were making good on their pledge to cover Carissa's escape.

"Over there!" Castagno shouted as he pointed to where he thought he saw Bradley. Nabz leaped forward, AK at the ready.

Rushi saw his opening. He grabbed one of his tennis balls, took aim, and let fly with a perfect down-the-line shot that would have made Federer proud. The tennis ball sailed through the air, nailing Christopher Nabzdyk right in the nads.

Nabz emitted a low grunt as he crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. Castagno looked at his teammate. "I'd take care of that wound for you, but it's a got bit too much of a brokeback feel to it. Walk it off," he suggested as he cocked his shotgun and scanned the forest.

"God damn it, what wouldn't I give for a bloodhound and some bed sheets," Castagno grumbled as he trudged through some underbrush in pursuit of Bradley. "I'd be dead on his ass like Spenser-For-fuckin'-Hire. I'll hunt him down and feed him his own testicles. And I do it in a jiffy. And I don't care if his mamma there, his grandmamma, innocent bystanders, little kids, baby-sitters, bill collectors. Whatever! I leave this whole island filled with hot brass if I have to. And you know why? Because I just don't give a fuck!"

-----------------------------

"Dammit, why won't you attach to the stupid fucking rope!" After reeling in a chainsaw, Cheryl set her sights on the small boxlike device Laura held in her hands. The GPS tracker, however, was not so easily graspable. Suddenly, there was a rustling, followed by the clicking noise of guns being cocked. Cheryl brought her carbine up only to see the collective barrels of a Heckler and Koch MP5, a Walther P99, a Benelli M3, a LeMat pistol, and a musket.

"And I was worried that I would have no way of retrieving the weapons," Alice Li grinned as she surveyed the three girls standing before her. Alice was a master speaker. Her speeches were inspirational yet terrifying, and hours upon hours of constant propagandizing had made her group of followers all but loyal to her vision.

"I'll take the gun, the lasso, and any other weapons you might be carrying, thanks." Alice smiled as she snatched Cheryl's rope. "Now, I'm feeling merciful, so I think I'll let you live. Just don't get any ideas about attacking us, or I'll pop a cap in your ass. Got it?"

Alice clearly was against the idea of combining forces, with good reason. The supply of guns and ammo were limited, and more people in her group simply mean more people without guns. Cheryl, Megha, and Melissa could not see a way out of the situation, and so they left. However, Cheryl was not going to take this lying down, and a plan began forming in her mind.

-----------------------------

Carissa Huq found security in a rather modern abandoned house. She breathed a sigh of relief and looked out the window. Her thoughts then turned to Bradley and Rushi, who had volunteered to delay her attackers as long as they could.

"I hope they're OK," she thought and quietly uttered a prayer.

-----------------------------

"Son of a bitch."

Castagno had been trailing Bradley for the past half hour, and it greatly angered him to find that the trail was suddenly gone. He had a suspicion that Bradley was hiding in one of the trees, but he could not find any evidence that this was indeed the case.

Castagno turned away and backtracked only to hear a rustling noise behind him.

"The absence of evidence is not evidence of absence!" Bradley roared as he slashed at Castagno with one of Carissa's hook swords. Castagno had attempted to dodge the strike, but it still connected, tearing a rather large chunk out of Castagno's left bicep and causing his retaliatory shot to miss and mangle a nearby tree.

There was not enough time to cock the shotgun for a second shot, so Castagno tossed it aside and pulled out his Desert Eagle. Bradley saw this hand motion and slashed at Castagno with his hook sword, aiming to remove both hand and pistol in one stroke. However, Castagno proved swifter and fired.

Bradley felt a searing blast of pain as the .357 Magnum tore through his abdomen. With almost inhuman determination, he got back up and tackled Castagno. Both fighters fell to the ground, each rolling about and attempting to secure a dominant position. Due to his injuries, Bradley was soon on the bottom and taking a pounding when he suddenly saw an opening. As Castagno threw another punch, Bradley grabbed his arm and wrenched his leg over Castagno's head, catching the other boy in an armbar.

Bradley threw his weight backwards, hoping to cause dislocation. Soon, there was a crack, but it did not come from Castagno's shoulder. Rather, it came from the woods and resulted in a rather large hole in Bradley's head.

Christopher Nabzdyk walked towards Castagno and helped him up.

"Nine bullets left," Nabz said as he looked at his AK-47. "I think we may need to adopt some stealth tactics."

"Yeah, I think so too," Castagno replied. "Nice assist. See, this is why we travel in pairs." He looked up at the sky. "You know, it's getting dark. Let's call it a day, eh?"

-----------------------------

Rushi Dave had to restrain his sigh of relief upon hearing those words. The original plan had been for Carissa to run north while he and Bradley lured Castagno's team south. If both of them were still alive after fifteen minutes, they would meet up at the original position and make their way northwards. Rushi was on his way to the rendezvous point when he heard the shots and knew that the situation had turned bad for Bradley. Deciding that the threat was probably gone, Rushi began searching for shelter.

Suddenly, there was rustling, and Rushi saw the bush in front of him move to reveal a large Germanic boy who was equipped with various firearms. Rushi turned around and tried to run for it, only to find his path blocked by an even larger Pole with an AK-47 strapped to his back.

"You do NOT hit a fellow man in the balls," Nabz growled as he brandished his cavalry lance.

Trapped between two such individuals, it was not fear that Rushi felt, only a heightened sense of things. He figured that judging from the way his two opponents were using only melee weapons, they were trying to conserve ammo. Rushi steadied himself. Then, he made his move.

He grabbed his last tennis ball and tossed it in the air. The short distance would mean that there would be no ground stroke; Rushi's volley impacted squarely with Nabz's nose, causing a fountain of red to spurt out. However, as Rushi prepared to make a break for it, he suddenly felt all 200+ pounds of Christopher Castagno crash into him in a bone-shattering tackle. The next thing he felt was two inches of Swiss Army knife burying itself in his body, followed by Nabz's cavalry lance. Rushi felt everything go black as his life slowly ebbed away.

-----------------------------

Alice Li surveyed the events with interest. After netting all necessary equipment from the command bunker, she had followed the GPS tracker to where Castagno and Nabz had just added another kill to their list. Alice knew that her followers did not have many true fighters, and a night raid against two seasoned fighters would simply become a brawl in which Castagno and Nabzdyk would have the advantage. Better to hold off the attack until morning, where visibility would be of greater help to her clique. Plus, there would be more time to plan the assault.

Alice Li was a staunch believer in the old adage of "fight smarter, not harder." Despite the combat disadvantage of her group, she was still confident that she could bring down Castagno and Nabzdyk. After all, they might be skilled warriors, but many cases throughout history have proven that brute force eventually always loses to careful planning. Yes, Alice Li would carefully plan, and Castagno and Nabzdyk would never even know what hit them.

-----------------------------

22 Students remain.


	13. Chapter 13: Warcraft

Chapter 13: Warcraft

-----------------------------

Even though Alice Li was relatively new at battlefield command, she was avidly involved in many leadership roles back in high school. As Alice surveyed her group with a commander's eye, she felt confident that she would succeed, especially now that Stan and Trace had joined their group.

Originally, Stan and Trace had an arrangement in which Stan would lure people to where Trace would be playing possum, after which both of them would bludgeon their victim to death with baseball bat and claw hammer. However, the shrinking battlefield and shrinking student population made this unfeasible. Trace and Stan attempted to reach the site of Laura's coup, but they arrived just in time to witness Alice's group pick the area clean of weapons. After overhearing her plan to attack Castagno's team, Stan and Trace figured that they wanted in on this plot. After all, Castagno and Nabzdyk were dangerous people, and such an assault would most definitely result in massive casualties and ownerless weapons.

Trace and Stan tried not to make their plan known, but Alice pretty much figured that this was their intent. Still, she accepted them because her group was comprised mostly of small Asian girls, and she would need some big strong(er) males to increase her attack strength. As the last pieces fell into place, the plan of attack was finalized.

According to her GPS tracker, Castagno and Nabzdyk were currently sandwiched between two danger zones, one to the east and one to the west. The south, southeast, and southwest grids were safe, but every grid southward was a danger zone. Alice's own group was currently approaching from the north. There would be a mass enveloping movement aimed at trapping Castagno and Nabzdyk into the southern grid, where there was open plain. The southwest grid was rather hilly, and the southeast was forest, which made a defense of both areas easier. Once the targets were backed into a corner, everything would be a simple matter of "closing the door and beating the dog," as the Chinese proverb went.

The attack, however, would have to wait until morning. It was now night and visibility was terrible. Everyone would be fighting blind, and coordination within Alice's group would soon break down. Under such circumstances the advantage would naturally go to Castagno and Nabzdyk. Thus, after force-marching her group to the grid directly northward of Castagno's, she stopped and turned to address her followers.

"Get some rest," Alice ordered. "We're in for a tough fight tomorrow."

-----------------------------

"They think we don't see them," Castagno chuckled as he called Nabz over. "They think we'll just sit here on our hands while they come and slaughter us. Dumbfucks," he snarled as he pointed northwards.

Nabz looked to the direction of Castagno's arm. "They look really heavily armed though," he noted. "Still, we're under cover of night. You want to make a break for it?"

Castagno thought for a moment. "Mmm, now there's an idea. It's really dark right now, they can't see shit, and their coordination is going to be all sorts of bitches and motherfuckers. Here's what we're going to do. Take a look at the map. To their east (that's our northeast) is a danger zone, but to their north and west are safe areas. Now, we're going to be ninjas and sneak past them. As soon as we reach safety, we're going to split up. I'll take the grid to their west, and you take the grid to their north. As soon as there's sufficient light to see and aim, we'll hit them with a two-prong counterattack."

"Tactically sound, sir," Nabzdyk replied. He reached for an MRE in his survival kit. "Let us make dinner, and eat heartily, for tomorrow we dine in Hell!"

The 300 reference got a chuckle out of Castagno. "Yes. Oh God yes," he laughed as he bit into a piece of beef jerky. As Castagno's heart quivered in anticipation, he felt a musical urge come upon him.

"With thundering engines,  
Fast as the wind,  
We head for the foe,  
Safe, in armor skinned.  
Our comrades still behind us roam;  
We fight the foe alone,  
Yes, fight alone  
We stab through the enemy's line  
To break the foe's backbone!"

-----------------------------

Carissa looked out the window of her newfound shelter. It was a nice house. There was electricity, and the indoor plumbing still worked. As she put away the last remains of an MRE, she was suddenly aware of a commotion outside. Carissa quickly turned off the lights and rushed to a window. She breathed a quick sigh of relief when she saw that it was only Deepica and David Tian. That relief soon turned to fear, however, when she saw that Quan was also with them.

Quan fancied himself a warrior ever since he looked in a Chinese dictionary and saw that his last name is derived from the phrase "Master of Bows." Unfortunately, this led many to label him as a violent bloodthirster. Such a pugnacious being unleashed in an environment such as Battle Royale is, indeed, a terrifying thought. Carissa thought of her options. The house had a back door, but it was right on the edge of a danger zone. There was not enough time to make an escape rope and climb out a window. Carissa picked up her hook sword and stared at it for a second. Then, she left.

"Well, that was a waste of effort," Quan complained as he opened the front door and prepared to step inside. "Those weapons were picked clean." Suddenly, he became aware of the swish of a sharp cutting implement coming straight for his abdomen. Without missing a beat, Quan dropped his harpoon gun, drew his sword, and blocked the blow, sending the clang of steel on steel reverberating throughout the house.

Slightly worried that her initial strike did not work, Carissa switched to a downward slash. This time, however, Quan was prepared. The hook sword was a marvelous weapon, full of protruding points and blades with which a master could seize and disarm his opponents. However, it often took years of training basic skills upon more years of training with the weapon itself to use the hook sword well, and Carissa did not have this sort of training. Carissa's weapon hooked on to Quan's broadsword all right, but a twist of Quan's blade trapped the hook sword and weakened Carissa's grip. Quan wasted no time in following up by grabbing on to her wrist, stepping into a bow stance, and dealing her a strong blow with the handle of his sword. In one fluid motion, Carissa was knocked back and disarmed.

With hook sword in left hand, broadsword in right, Quan twirled the two weapons in front of him and assumed a fighting stance. By this time, David had also barged into the room, katana held high and ready to decapitate. What saved Carissa was Deepica hurriedly turning on the lights. Upon seeing that it was only Carissa and not an ambush, Quan and David quickly put down their weapons. After a few apologies, the four classmates sat down and exchanged stories.

"Why did they only give you one hook sword? These things are supposed to be used in pairs," Quan inquired.

The pained expression on Carissa's face told Quan that this was probably not the best question to ask. As she told her story, the wheels began spinning in Quan's head. He knew both Castagno and Nabzdyk from ROTC and was pretty certain that they would not harm him. Well, not unless they were the last three remaining, anyway. He wasn't too sure about how they would react to Deepica and David, however, and Carissa would probably not relish the thought of allying with them.

"Well, we just got back from the command bunker," David recounted as Carissa's story came to an end. "They said that Laura's group tried to rebel, but it failed, so we figured that their weapons were probably still there. But we got there late, and everything was taken already."

Quan nodded. "Yeah, so right now we're just going to dig in and hide here until the house becomes a danger zone. People still have guns and ammo, and there was no way that we were going to be hold our own against that."

"Sounds reasonable," Carissa replied.

-----------------------------

A similar war council was occurring in Cheryl's group.

"So, they're planning to attack Castagno and Nabz." Melissa noted. "Who do you think is going to win?"

Cheryl thought for a bit. "I actually don't know. Castagno and Nabz are strong and all, but it's 9 on 2 against them."

"Still, no matter who wins, they'll be terribly wounded, right?" Megha pointed out. "I suppose the best plan right now is to hide and wait for their fight to be over, and pick up the spoils from there. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

-----------------------------

"I'm the better orienteer. Follow me," Castagno ordered as he and prepared to set out under the dark blanket of night. "No guns or ordnance unless discovered by more than one target at the same time. Melee weapons only."

Nabz nodded. "Good thing that my AK-47 came with a bayonet, eh?"

Castagno did not answer. With a wave of the arm, the two began their maneuver.

-----------------------------

_22 Students remain._


	14. Chapter 14: Finest Hour

Chapter 14: Finest Hour

-----------------------------

There was a danger zone announcement at 11:30, but none of the new zones announced would affect the chain of events following Castagno and Nabz's escape.

It was now Justin Yip's turn to stand guard. Ever since Alice got her hands on the GPS, sentry duty became much easier. There was no need to constantly watch for enemy movements; a simple glance at the screen told everything.

However, it had been almost three days since the Battle Royale began, and combat fatigue had taken its toll on many of her group members. Had Alice been more experienced in the art of war, she would have created an arrangement in which two people would stand guard at the same time. This way, the two sentries could talk to each other and prevent each other from falling asleep. Alice certainly had enough manpower for such a task.

Of course, that did not happen. As Justin glanced down at the GPS tracker for the umpteenth time, he felt his head droop downwards and a cottony sensation pervade his mind. Soon everything went black, and he did not notice that the two blips representing Castagno and Nabzdyk were approaching his group's position.

-----------------------------

Castagno and Nabzdyk's escape went better than expected. The dark night masked their movements, and they actually came upon the sleeping form of Trace Thurman. The two allies exchanged glances and went to work. The first thing Trace felt was a large meaty hand covering his mouth, followed immediately by an icy-cold bayonet running across his throat. A few muffled gurgles later, all was still again.

A thorough search unveiled several weapons: a baseball bat, a theatrical dagger, and a Walther P99 pistol. Castagno thought for a moment, then handed the gun to Nabz. Now both of them had a sidearm to fall back upon when their primary weapons ran out of ammo.

Soon, Castagno and Nabz arrived at their prearranged grids and got some much-needed sleep. Upon the 5:30 danger zone announcement, they decided that there was enough light to aim properly and promptly began their preemptive strike. As Castagno ran a last minute equipment check, a poetic urge came upon him, and he called out to the Heavens.

"God, I like war."

There was a twinkle in Castagno's eyes.

"God, I love war.

God, I SO LOVE WAR.

I love holocaust. I love blitzkrieg. I love onslaught. I love defensive." Castagno paused as he heard Nabz's thrown grenade explode in the midst of Alice's group.

I love sieges. I love breakthrough. I love mop-up. I love retreat," he reciting, punctuating his sentence with a thrown flashbang.

"Fire in the hole!"

-----------------------------

The 5:30 danger zone announcement roused Alice from her slumber. As she looked around, she was made aware of two small smoking objects that rolled into her camp.

The first was a grenade that sent a shower of shrapnel bursting throughout the area. Thinking quickly, Alice took cover behind a tree, resulting in minor cuts to her arms. Lina, however, was not so lucky, and she fell over to the ground, clutching a bloodied leg and screaming in pain. Alice's entire group's attention was drawn to the site of the explosion, which was what Castagno was hoping for.

The second smoking object was a flashbang that blinded and disoriented everyone in Alice's group. As they stumbled around, still trying to figure out what was going on, Castagno and Nabzdyk made their move.

It was auditory chaos; the cries of panic and fear were soon joined by the staccato of Nabz's AK, the roar of Castagno's shotgun, and the drone of Castagno's murderous poetry.

"On the plains, in the streets, in the trenches, on the prairies, on the tundra, in the desert, on the sea, in the sky, in the mud, in the swamp, I cherish each and every way war can be waged on this earth."

The first thing Alice saw when her vision began to recover was Helen Fu holding up her riot shield, only to find that riot shields are meant to defend against shrapnel and thrown weapons, not high-powered rifle rounds. To Alice's credit, she did not panic at the sight of her friend's bloodied corpse and instead responded to the assault by barking out orders.

"Get down! Take cover!"

Unfortunately, her teammates were still reeling from the effects of the flashbang. A dull roar followed by a high-pitched scream told Alice that another one of her teammates had fallen to Castagno's onslaught. However, by this time, her vision began to come back, and she saw Randell firing back with his MP5. She looked around and saw that Lina had a giant hole in her upper body; apparently she was the one who just got capped by Castagno's shotgun.

Castagno's next words seemed directed at Alice herself.

"You wanted a war, and believe you me we will deliver! We will give you a merciless war, a shitlike war, a war worthy of one in hell itself! We will give you a stormlike conflict that runs the gamut of blowing steel and striking flame, a crushing wave of destruction that will kill everything in its path, even the lizards!

We are but two men, our ammunition half-spent, our vitality and endurance sapped by three days of constant battle. But we are each matchless hardened veterans, born from the fires of war, and each of us is worth at least five of you!"

The next thing Alice saw was somewhat encouraging. Justin was nowhere to be found, but Tian had taken his musket and was attempting to hold off Nabz's assault. Stan joined her, and Alice was glad she gave Stan her shotgun. Alice herself had kept the M4 carbine, and now that her vision had more or less come back, she brought it up to eye level and provided suppressive fire.

Another roar, followed by another scream of pain. Connie's evasive action was not enough to save her from Castagno's shotgun blast that cut off her left leg at the knee. As she crawled away, Castagno saw that the threat was sufficiently neutralized and, without missing a beat, immediately reloaded, aimed for the tree behind which Randell had taken cover, and fired.

Randell, to his credit, was a capable gunfighter, and upon hearing the ka-click of Castagno's shotgun being cocked, immediately threw himself to the ground, causing Castagno's shot to pass by harmlessly overhead. From his prone position, Randell unloaded his weapon at Castagno's massive frame. Castagno quickly sought cover behind a tree, but several bullets still impacted with his legs. It was not enough to incapacitate him, however, and he continued his spiel.

"All our strength is held in a clenched fist, ready to strike. We will rouse you slumbering ones who are foolishly confident in your broken tactics. We will seize you by the hair, drag you down, and open your eyes to how true professionals do battle."

Castagno tossed another grenade from behind the tree. Randell briefly focused his attention on the projectile, only to realize that it was a feint. Castagno had popped out from the other side of the tree, went prone, and fired his last shotgun round. It was a rushed shot, and it missed Randell's head, but the violent spray of buckshot was fired at sufficiently close range to completely sever Randell's left arm at the shoulder.

"We shall make you remember the taste of terror. We shall make you remember the sound of our war boots. We shall make you remember that no matter how much manpower is at your disposal, livestock cannot hope to be victorious against wolves."

As Randell clutched his stump, writhing in pain, Castagno calmly drew his Desert Eagle and nailed his adversary with a headshot before getting back up and making a beeline towards Alice. A fire burned in Castagno's eyes as he stared intently at his rival group commander and concluded his speech.

"The kampfgruppe of adler und sokoly… will burn your world to a crisp."

-----------------------------

Meanwhile, on the northern front, Nabz was progressing just as quickly. Justin, who currently held the GPS device, had taken Lina's LeMat and run off. Tian was easily taken care of; she had taken up Justin's musket and attempted to defend herself. Unfortunately for her, muskets were notoriously inaccurate and absolutely no match for Nabz's AK-47. Stan fired a shot in self-defense, but it missed. Upon reloading, however, Stan found that his weapon was somehow jammed, and as he attempted to fix the problem, Nabz took the opportunity and shot him in the arm.

Upon realizing the hopelessness of his situation, Stan knelt before his opponent and attempted to appeal to his better nature.

"Even though I am no more than a monster, don't I at least deserve to live?"

However, Nabz's bloodlust was up, and the supplication only angered him.

"Stop whining! All I did was blow off your arm. Stand up! Pick up your weapon and attack me! Do something! The day is so young, and the real fun has yet to begun! Hurry, hurry, hurry!"

As it turned out, the entreaty was but a method to distract Nabz. With unexpected speed, a claw hammer appeared in Stan's hand and smashed into Nabz's hip. The Polish boy gave a roar of pain and retaliated by smashing the butt of his rifle into Stan's head, knocking him unconscious. Nabz moved to finish Stan off, only to be interrupted by a burst of suppressive fire from Alice. Most of the shots missed, but one bullet impaled Nabz's right wrist, greatly impairing his combat capability.

Alice attempted to close in and engage, but Castagno cut her off and met her in a duel of commanding officers. On a certain level, their battle had a certain dance-like quality to it. Each combatant attempted to circle strafe around the other, resulting in intricate spirals and figure-eights. Castagno was the better fighter, but his previous wounds and the bulletproof vest that Alice wore prevented him from gaining the upper hand.

Suddenly, Castagno cleared his throat and emitted a piercing cry. It was a raspy, hellish sound that started at a deep whoop, went through a long crescendo, and ended in a blood-curdling shriek that sent a peculiar corkscrew sensation down Alice's spine. The Asian girl tripped and fell to the ground.

"Any last words?" Castagno inquired as he slowly limped toward his downed opponent, pistol at the ready.

"Don't come any closer! Or you'll die!" Alice warned.

Castagno looked over his shoulder and saw that Nabz had switched to the P99 pistol and was jogging up to support his ally.

"You must have a fucked up sense of reality, woman. Your entire group just got knocked the fuck out," Castagno taunted. "What makes you think that you have anything more than a snowball's chance in Hell of winning?"

Alice's eyes suddenly narrowed. "Superior planning," she replied. In one deft movement, she seized Helen's riot shield, placed it over her body, and pushed a button on a remote that had somehow appeared in her hand. A series of explosions rocked the grid, sending bits of shrapnel flying everywhere.

Kar's suicide bomb vest was indeed put to good use. It was a series of shrapnel bombs, connected together with many long wires and outfitted with a radio transmitter. A press of a button would set all the bombs off at once. Hundreds of small bits of metal covered Castagno and Nabz in an aura of death.

Alice, on the other hand, was protected from the blast. As soon as it was all over, she discarded the riot shield and checked the safety on her carbine. Alice then slowly walked over to where her former adversaries lay writing in pain.

"Brains and planning always beats brute force," she taunted. Suddenly, she saw that there were two smoking objects near her feet. Nabz was not as dead as he seemed, and with his last bit of strength had rolled two grenades at Alice's feet in a last ditch attempt to take her down with him.

Alice tried to run, but she was too late. The explosive force of two HE grenades threw her like a rag doll, and Alice felt her head collide with a tree. There was a thud, and Alice's skull split open like a coconut dropped off the edge of a skyscraper.

"Nice one, Nabz," Castagno managed to sputter through spasms of pain. "Give them something to remember us by, right?"

"It was an honor to have died by your side," Nabz gasped.

"It was an honor to have lived by yours," Castagno replied. He then looked up at the morning sky. "It is well that war is so terrible, or we might grow too fond of it."

-----------------------------

All through the command bunker, there was a silence that was broken when Brownson began a slow clap. Soon, the room was filled with clapping and cheering and poker chips changing hands.

"Man, that was intense," Falligant exclaimed.

By this time, Krueckl had become attracted to the game, and she stepped up to refute Falligant's statement.

"No, you know what would be intense? If we did this to 08 and told them the winner got to be valedictorian."

-----------------------------

_13 Students remain._


	15. Chapter 15: Cold Mountain

Chapter 15: Cold Mountain

-----------------------------

Justin Yip had been considering fleeing from Alice's group to look for Kelly ever since he got his hands on the GPS tracker. Thus, when Castagno and Nabzdyk began their utter domination of Alice's war party, he immediately took the opportunity to escape.

Justin was fairly well-armed. He had been given the chainsaw in preparation for the attack on Castagno's group, and now he also had Lina's LeMat revolver as a long range weapon.

Separation from Kelly had been _exile and brute wandering_. Justin glanced at his GPS tracker, oriented himself, and immediately set out.

-----------------------------

The shots and explosions from Alice and Castagno's battle had drawn many scavengers to the area. The first of these was Cheryl's group. They swept into the battlefield, taking all the equipment they could find.

"Here's the taser, and here's my carbine, and here's the stupid fucking rope!" Cheryl called out as she bounced from body to body like _the shadow of a crow_, picking up weapons and equipment. Her eyes then fell on the bloodied corpse of Connie Chen, her leg missing at the knee.

"Dumb bitch," Cheryl muttered as she kicked the corpse, then searched Connie's pack for useful items.

"Hey, wait for me," came Megha's request. Her wound from a run-in with Trace slowed her down. Cheryl and Melissa exchanged glances. Then, Cheryl drew the Desert Eagle that she had picked up from Castagno's corpse and fired a .357 magnum round into Megha's forehead. The Indian girl collapsed with a gasp.

"I'm sorry, but you're slowing us down way too much," Cheryl explained as she went right back to plundering corpses for weapons.

-----------------------------

As Justin walked about, he soon became aware of a distinctly pungent smell pervading the area. Following his nose, he saw that the source of the stench was, in fact, a herd of rotting cattle. The island was supposed to have been evacuated of all life in preparation of Battle Royale, but someone apparently missed a spot.

Justin looked at his GPS tracker. The creatures blocked his only way to Kelly Chen, and he thought about ways to remove the obstacle. His first thought was to build levers, and he revved up his chainsaw to put this plan to action. However, there were simply way too many bodies, and the lever solution came to _naught and grief_. Justin gave up on the idea of levers for something more direct.

The chainsaw roared again, only this time it was brought directly to bear on the beasts themselves. Several hours later, the task was complete. With _a satisfied mind_, Justin waded through the bloody passageway and continued his quest.

-----------------------------

Cheryl and Melissa had soon picked the area clean of weapons. Feeling confident in their ability to survive this game, they soon left the vicinity.

The next person to reach the battlefield was Grace Tran. Since the failed rebellion against the program administration, she and Rusi had been wandering aimlessly about the island, right until several hours ago, when they had passed a lighthouse. Suddenly, there was a gunshot, followed quickly by Rusi's head opening up and a rather loud cry of "Boom! Headshot."

Justin Wei reloaded his AWP and took aim again only to see Grace flee into the woods. He shrugged and went back to camping.

After that, Grace continued her wandering until she came across the unconscious but still alive body of Stan. She quickly took out her "weapon," a medkit, and went to work.

Stan awoke with a start. However, as he was still in combat mode, the first thing he did was lash out with his claw hammer at the figure in front of him. Grace never had a chance. The blunt instrument shattered her skull, and she lay there, blood and internal matter staining _the ground beneath her hands_ in a grotesque reminder that in Battle Royale, no good deed goes unpunished.

Stan soon regained his senses and took a few deep breaths. He felt a little guilty for having killed Grace, but only a little. Sure, she helped him, but she probably would have died anyway. At least it was a quick and mostly painless death.

Stan then surveyed the scene around him. He was greatly angered to see that someone had already cleared the battlefield of useful items. Well, almost cleared.

Stan had second watch the night before the battle with Castagno's group started. During his shift, he had sifted through Alice's belongings, as he had a slight hunch that Alice was more into the game than she had let on in the beginning. Sure enough, both ammo voucher and weapons list were in her bag. The weapons list had lost its utility this late into the game, but the ammo voucher had its uses, especially since Castagno's Remington 870 was still lying around due to it being out of ammunition.

After pocketing both items, Stan continued searching and found several weapons that were either missed during Cheryl's and Melissa's search or discarded because they were deemed useless, namely a set of shurikens and Nabz's cavalry lance. Stan decided to keep them, if only because any weapon was better than none.

-----------------------------

It was noontime, and after the longest casualty announcement since the game began, Falligant announced the newest set of danger zones.

"Now, I've noticed that some of you have decided to take up the practice of camping. Now, the guidebook to Battle Royale considers this a valid tactical maneuver. Unfortunately, it's also boring. Thus, the following houses and places of shelter are now danger zones…"

-----------------------------

"Shit," came the cry from Quan's group. "Let's get moving," Quan ordered.

There were a few minor adjustments in team dynamics now that Carissa had also joined the group, the main difference being that Carissa now held the harpoon gun while Quan acted as close-range backup. The group of four soon gathered up their belongings and left the house that would soon become a danger zone in 24 minutes.

-----------------------------

"Shit," came the cry from Kelly's cave. After giving herself a few moments to adjust to the light outside, Kelly exited the shelter and began her own wandering.

"Justin, if you are fighting, stop fighting. If you are marching, stop marching. Come back to me is my request," Kelly whispered to the heavens, _the color of despair_ clearly visible upon her face.

-----------------------------

"Thank you, my good sir," Stan nodded as he pocketed the 30 shotgun shells that the soldier on guard duty at the command bunker gave him. As Stan was about to leave the vicinity, a sudden thought struck him

"Hey, if I were to come into possession of another gun, can I, like, trade in the shotgun shells for other bullets?"

The soldier thought for a moment. "Well, I don't think there's anything in the rule book against it," he replied. "Sure, why not?"

"Awesome," Stan responded. "I'll see you later."

"If you're still alive by then," came the soldier's reply.

-----------------------------

At about 5:00 PM, Stan came across Quan's group. Even though he had a gun, and their only long range weapon consisted of the harpoon gun, Stan had learned by now that material advantages are not the only factor in determining victory. Better to be cautious and take things slowly, then. Stan had no intention of rushing out to battle only to find himself ambushed, killed, and surrounded by _the spirits of crows, dancing_.

From a hiding place behind a rather thick tree trunk, Stan took aim at Deepica's legs and fired, aiming to cripple rather than kill. The defeat of several hours ago dampened Stan's spirits, and he was going to have a bit of fun today.

Stan's caution proved a prudent measure as David Tian leaped from his own hiding spot, katana at the ready. Stan instinctively raised his shotgun to block the strike, only to find his weapon shortened by quite a few inches. David then attempted a decapitation strike, but Stan was ready this time and ducked. The swipe removed a substantial amount of Stan's afro, but it also resulted in David's blade becoming stuck inside a tree trunk. As David attempted to pull the weapon out, the pause in action allowed Stan to reload and nail David with a spray of buckshot to the chest. Blood splattered into the air and landed all about him like the _ashes of roses_.

"Get over here!" Came Carissa's battle cry. A harpoon sailed through the air and embedded itself into Stan's shoulder. Quan had also arrived on the scene. Due to his lack of a ranged weapon, he could not come to David's aid in time. Upon seeing the bloodied corpse of his friend, Quan's heart was filled with bloodlust, and the only thing that prevented him from launching a berserk charge was Stan firing a suppressive shot that forced Quan to take cover.

Stan suddenly felt a stab of pain as the harpoon in his shoulder tugged on his flesh. Carissa had braced herself against a tree and began retracting the harpoon. Thinking quickly, Stan grabbed David's katana and cut himself loose. Firing two more shots, Stan ran off.

Quan emitted a roar of pain and grief. He picked up his broadsword and hurled it at the retreating form. Alas, Quan's throwing abilities were never that great to begin with, and his weapon buried itself inside a tree trunk as Stan escaped. Quan fell upon his knees, buried his head in his hands, and then emitted a long series of howls of pain and anguish for his fallen friend. After recollecting himself, he approached David's body, reached out with his fingers, and closed David's eyelids. He then turned his attention to Deepica, who was still in agony from her wounds. It did not look like she would be in any shape to leave. Suddenly, the danger zone announcements came on.

-----------------------------

"So, I'm sure you've all guessed by now what I'm going to say next," Brownson announced. "Your friends, in the order they died:

Megha Kansra, headshot.

Rusi Yagnik, headshot.

Grace Tran, crushed skull.

David Tian, shotgun blast to the chest.

Attaboy, guys! You're almost there, keep going! By the way, Brownson's Student of the 9 Weeks is still in effect. Highest number of kills gets it. Anyways, here are the danger zones."

-----------------------------

Quan checked his map and saw that the grid he was currently in was among those announced. He looked at Deepica, then at Carissa, then at Deepica's wounds. Her entire lower body was mangled and bleeding, and in many places the bones had shattered.

Deepica groaned in pain from the shotgun blast, looked at her map, and saw the situation her group was in. "Quan," she gasped. "Help me. Please. Oh God, the pain. Make it go away, Quan! Make it go away, please!" A spasm of pain moved up her body, and she doubled up.

Quan went to the tree that held his weapon and yanked it out.

"Quan, what are you doing?" Carissa asked with a slight hint of alarm in her voice. "You can't be seriously considering – "

Quan cut her off. "Yes, I am. She can't move, carrying her will only slow us down, and should the situation get dangerous, her presence would divide our attention. We must efficiently allocate resources to maximize the group's chances of survival." He then walked to where Deepica lay, clutching her wounds.

"Deepi," Quan solemnly articulated as he petted her hair. "You're a bright girl. Have some more confidence in your self, and may the circumstances be more favorable to you in your next life." He then plunged his sword into Deepica's body, causing her to scream and convulse. After holding the blade in for a few seconds, Quan pulled it out. A few coughs later, Deepica laid still, the area surrounding her covered in red like a _bride bed full of blood._

Quan closed her eyelids, then stood up and reapportioned his group's supplies. "Come on," he called to Carissa. "We have like five minutes."

-----------------------------

In the end, the universe tends to balance itself out. There was one thing that turned out right that day. Kelly Chen had run out of MREs, so when she saw a flock of wild turkeys flying about, she immediately took aim with her crossbow and let loose a few bolts. It was her lucky day, for two of the birds were immediately impaled, thus guaranteeing food for the next two days. Even better, as she went to retrieve her prey, Justin Yip appeared before her. The two stared at each other for a while, then rushed forward in an epic embrace.

An hour later, both had taken shelter in another cave that had not been marked as a danger zone.

"If only there was a priest on this island. Then we could at least be married," Justin mused.

Kelly thought for a minute. "Isn't there some religion where you just say 'I marry you' three times, and then you're married?"

"I marry you, I marry you, I marry you," Justin replied. Kelly laughed. "Why is that so funny?" He inquired.

"I think it's actually 'I divorce you' three times, and then you're not married any more."

-----------------------------

_8 Students remaining._


	16. Chapter 16: March to Glory

Chapter 16: March to Glory

-----------------------------

"How troublesome," Justin Wei complained as he gathered up his belongings and left his lighthouse. Due to it having recently become a danger zone, the lighthouse could no longer provide a sniping post for Justin. The boy checked his ammo, gathered his belongings, and left in search of another suitable camping spot.

-----------------------------

With a grunt of pain, Stan pulled the harpoon out of his shoulder. Blood immediately began to flow from the wound, running down his arm like serpents of red.

"Shit," Stan exclaimed as he fumbled through his medkit. His eyes soon fell on a packet of QuikClot. Now Stan had seen _Shooter_, and he immediately opened the packet and poured it on the wound. There was a rather large amount of heat, but two minutes later, the blood had more or less clotted.

Suddenly, Stan became aware of two girls approaching his position. He quickly cocked his shotgun and brought it up in hopes of an easy kill, only to be sorely disappointed when he saw that these girls were armed to the teeth. Still, it was getting dark, and perhaps there would be an opportunity to take these weapons. Stan took a look around and decided to stay in the vicinity.

-----------------------------

"He went this way, I saw him, come on!" Quan growled through clenched teeth.

"Quan! Wait up," Carissa called out. "Quan! Stop. Look, I know you want to get revenge for David, but think rationally for a minute. We have no ranged weapons, and even if we were to catch up to him, what would we do? He would still slaughter us. Well, no, he would slaughter you and do something worse than that to me."

"Fine," Quan snapped. "What do you suggest we do?"

"We follow Stan."

"What the fuck! That's what I was doing!"

"No, you were going to attack and try to kill him. I say we follow him so we know where he is, and then stab him in his sleep."

Quan immediately calmed down.

"Hey, that works. Good thinking."

-----------------------------

"Justin, we're going to live through this," Kelly declared. "Your pistol and my crossbow, we're going to survive until the end."

Justin Yip nodded.

"Now let me see that GPS. See, everyone's all close to each other. There's Stan, who's next to Cheryl and Melissa, and it looks like Quan and Carissa are also in the vicinity. Everyone except for Justin Wei, who's really far away. We'll go in, wait for them to kill each other off, and mop up the battlefield. Then we go after that other Justin, because there's only one person on this island cool enough to be called Justin."

Justin Yip smiled and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. "You're the cutest, baby."

"No, you're the cutest," Kelly replied. "Come on, let's go. It's night, and we don't have to worry about anyone attacking us."

-----------------------------

No action took place that night, as everyone was playing it cautious, and for the first time since the game began, all students remaining got a good night's sleep.

"They're all close together now. Looks like all we have to do with the danger zones is keep it that way," Krueckl mused as she began to make the 5:30 AM announcements.

"So, no one died last night. Which is actually OK, since all of you are by now pretty close to each other. Here are the new danger zone announcements…"

"As you can probably see, they don't really affect where you are right now. Just fight hard with gusto, and this game might just end by tonight! Hang in there, and don't quit!"

-----------------------------

The smell of baked opossum filled the air as Cheryl and Melissa made their breakfast.

"Man, a month ago I could have told you how many calories were in that damn thing," Cheryl laughed as she bit into a leg.

"Waste of an AK-47 though," Melissa complained. The animal had surprised Melissa while she was standing watch, resulting in her unloading the AK's remaining four bullets on the creature. Still, it was not as if there was a shortage of guns, Melissa thought as she cradled her Benelli M3 shotgun.

Suddenly, Melissa noticed a tall, dark, and Afroed form approach her position. She brought up her shotgun and fired just as Stan did the same thing. Unfortunately for Melissa, the M3 was still malfunctioning, and only a small click instead of a deafening roar came out of its business end.

Stan's gun, on the other hand, did its job. Even though Melissa was wearing a bulletproof vest, Stan was standing sufficiently far away for his shotgun's spread to nail Melissa with a shower of buckshot to the face and arms.

"Melissa!" Cheryl shouted and caught her friend as she slumped backwards. She then raised her M4 carbine and fired several shots in rapid succession, two of which produced cries of pain from Stan but did not hit anything vital.

"Dammit Stan, I'm going to kill you!" Cheryl yelled at the retreating figure before turning his attention to her dying friend.

"Cheryl, I feel cold," Melissa whispered. Spasms of pain wracked her body.

"It's OK, Melissa," Cheryl replied. She took out her carbine and placed it against Melissa's head. "It's all over now. No more cold, no more pain." There was a sound of thunder, and Melissa was still.

-----------------------------

The smell of meat and the sound of gunshots drew Quan and Carissa to the site of Stan and Melissa's gunfight. After listening to Cheryl's story, Quan was silent. Then, he spoke up.

"Yeah, I know how you're feeling right now. He killed my friend as well, and I'm currently tracking him down to get my vengeance. But we have no long range weapons whatsoever, and I'll need your help. What do you say to an alliance?"

Cheryl nodded. "Let's get that motherfucker."

-----------------------------

Stan's wounds prevented him from traveling as fast as he would have like. He was on the verge of crossing a large patch of tall grass when a gunshot zipped by his head. Stan immediately went prone, the tall grass covering him from view.

Three small smoking objects flew towards the area in which Stan was hiding, forming a perfect equilateral triangle with Stan as the center. Unfortunately, none of them were actual explosive grenades. Edwin Wu's original ten grenades were apportioned thus: six explosive grenades, two smoke grenades, and two flashbangs. Thus, the only actual use for the maneuver was that Stan was blinded and disoriented. However, Quan, Cheryl, and Carissa were similarly affected.

Soon, battle was joined on a third front. Kelly had looked at the GPS tracker and determined that a battle was occurring.

"Come on Justin," she called. "We'll hit Cheryl's group in the back while they're currently preoccupied with fighting Stan. Let's go."

However, she had arrived just when the flashbang went off, and she and Justin were blinded as well.

-----------------------------

Justin Wei had just arrived at the patch of forest in which Castagno and Alice Li had their epic firefight. As he waded though the bodies, he saw that Lina Lu was among those dead. Saying nothing, he calmly walked over, reached out with his fingers, and closed her eyelids. Then he heard a series of three explosions. Knowing that the Battle Royale was reaching its end, and soon there would be enough people for his six bullets to finish off, Justin made his way to the source of the explosion.

-----------------------------

"Dude, they're all there, the battle's about to begin!" Brownson could hardly contain his enthusiasm as he observed the events before him.

"Howdy, class of 2007! Only one death since the last announcement, but that will all changed soon, I'm sure! Melissa Lau is no longer with us, but you already knew that, given how close you are to each other at the moment. Here are the danger zones…" Brownson paused to read them from a list. "I hope you won't disappoint me! To aid in the festivities, I'll even provide some music for you."

Brownson then pressed a few buttons, and the Mortal Kombat theme song began to play throughout the island.

-----------------------------

_7 Students remain._


	17. Chapter 17: Flawless Victory

Chapter 17: Flawless Victory

-----------------------------

"Stan! My name is Quan Zhang! You killed my friend! Prepare to die!"

Quan fired his P99 at where the tall grass was currently shuffling. None of his shots hit, but it did allow him to close in on Stan's position. Quan was out for vengeance, and a normal death by gunshot would not do. No, he would stain his sword with blood and offer Stan's head as a sacrifice to David's soul.

Carissa and Cheryl started off providing fire support, but their attention was soon diverted by the appearance of Justin and Kelly. The pair had reapportioned their weapons when Kelly found that she was unable to reload her crossbow. Thus, Kelly now carried the LeMat, and Justin now carried the crossbow as well as the chainsaw as a secondary weapon.

"I'll take Kelly, you handle Justin," Cheryl called to Carissa as she moved in to engage.

-----------------------------

Justin Wei had found a suitable sniping post atop a rather tall tree. As he reached the top, he saw that everyone still alive at this point were gathered all in a field of tall grass.

"This looks exciting," he thought as he observed the series of bloody events.

-----------------------------

Quan soon reached where he thought Stan was hiding, ditched his pistol, and slashed with his broadsword, cutting a sizeable semicircle in the tall grass. The strike very nearly took off Stan's leg at the shin, and the African boy immediately cocked his shotgun and prepared to fire.

Justin Wei was displeased at this turn of events. Taking careful aim, he fired a round at Stan's shotgun. The shot impacted squarely with the Remington's chamber, effectively ruining the weapon. Stan shot a glance at where the shot had come from, but a battle cry from Quan soon brought him back to reality. Unsheathing what was formerly David's katana, Stan met Quan's attack head on.

Stan slashed downwards with his katana as Quan brought his Chinese broadsword up to block. The defensive maneuver then transitioned into a horizontal slash that met the guard of Stan's blade. The two fighters jockeyed for position, then Stan suddenly launched a thrust at Quan's midsection. Quan quickly dodged to the side and caught Stan with an upward elbow to the jaw, knocking the other boy back a few steps.

Quan immediately followed up by knocking Stan's blade aside, then launching a tornado kick that forced Stan to backtrack. The kick missed by about two inches, but it was followed up with a sweep kick that took Stan to the ground. However, it appeared as if Stan was no slouch at close quarters combat, and as he fell he took a swipe at Quan's legs, preventing Quan from pressing his advantage. Stan then executed a flare and got right back up.

"The blind nigga samurai is here and ready to take on all comers, biatch!"

-----------------------------

Cheryl's battle with Kelly was nowhere near as intense. Kelly started off firing several shots, all of which impacted squarely with Cheryl's bulletproof vest. Cheryl, meanwhile, fired back with her M4 carbine. The sense of invincibility brought upon by her protective armor led Cheryl to aim at not completely vital areas of her opponent's body.

Kelly fell over as the result of a shot to the leg, and out of desperation emptied the nine chambers of the LeMat pistol at Cheryl's approaching form. Most landed harmlessly on the bulletproof vest, but one lucky shot grazed Cheryl's face, leaving a small cut across her countenance.

"You cut my face," Cheryl noted in a surprisingly calm voice as she knelt down in front of Kelly. She was about to say something else, only to feel the barrel of the LeMat press against her forehead as Kelly attempted to bluff her way out of the situation.

"Did I fire nine shots, or only eight? Well the truth is I lost track myself. But seeing as this could blow your head clean off, I think the question you should be asking yourself is: do I feel lucky today? Well, do you, bitch?"

Cheryl smiled, reached out, wrested the gun from Kelly's grasp, and examined it. "1861 Lemat pistol," Cheryl noted as she looked at Kelly's prone figure. She then depressed a small lever on the gun, switching the LeMat's firing mode from conventional revolver to miniature shotgun.

"First off, I was keeping track, and it was nine shots. Second, I guess you've never read Cold Mountain, because this gun has a second barrel underneath the one you were using." She then pulled the trigger, sending a shower of grapeshot into Kelly's face.

"I win," Cheryl taunted as she blew the smoke away from the tip of the pistol, then tossed it aside and turned her eyes on her teammates' progress.

-----------------------------

Carissa, as it turned out, had an innate affinity for firearms, but her tactics left much to be desired. When Justin Yip moved to engage her in combat, Carissa's first impulse was to sweep the area with bullets from her MP5 submachine gun. The maneuver forced Justin to take cover and made his crossbow bolt fly harmlessly overhead. However, the gun was low on ammo to begin with, and now it had no bullets left.

As Carissa drew her melee weapons and charged for Justin's position, Justin took the opportunity to reload his crossbow. Carissa felt a sudden pain in her chest as the bolt flew straight and true through her liver, and she fell over on the ground. Suddenly, there was a deafening gunshot. Justin turned his head only to witness Kelly receive a face full of grapeshot from Cheryl Montejo. Rage and grief filled Justin's heart, and he reloaded his crossbow, took aim at Cheryl, and fired.

-----------------------------

Quan twirled his sword in a figure eight, utilizing the sun's reflection off the flat of his blade to dazzle Stan's eyes while he spun about and slashed at Stan. However, Stan had seen Quan utilize the exact same move on Lauren Reddish in a mock swordfight during English class and immediately dropped to the ground. Quan's attack missed by an inch, and Stan's subsequent attacks on Quan's legs forced the Asian boy on the defensive for the next several bouts.

As much as Quan exuded the aura of a warrior, the truth was that he actually have only a few months of formal training. This, coupled with the fact that Stan had seen many samurai movies, made the fight a lot more even than it seemed at first.

Suddenly, Quan broke off and launched another assault. As Stan brought his blade up to block, Quan reached out, grabbed Stan's wrist, passed his blade through the nook of Stan's arm, and held his sword at Stan's throat. However, with a twist of the wrist, Stan managed to place his own blade the exact same position.

"Shit," both combatants yelled at the same time and used their off hand to grab on to the opponent's sword hand. As Quan and Stan made little progress in pressing their blades closer to the other's throat, they turned their attention to attacking the lower body. Soon, the fields were filled with the sound of flesh on flesh and bone striking bone, and both fighters' legs were covered in green and purple.

-----------------------------

Justin's crossbow bolt shattered the ceramic plate of Cheryl's bulletproof vest, but the Kevlar part prevented it from penetrating. Cheryl fell over from the attack, but she soon got back up, took aim with her M4 carbine, and pulled the trigger. A bloody hole soon appeared in Justin's forehead, and he fell over, dead, the chainsaw in his hands still roaring.

"Shit, shit, I need some bandages," Cheryl shouted with agitation as she saw to Carissa's wounds. Taking out a Swiss Army knife and Justin's pack, Cheryl quickly went to work.

-----------------------------

After several changes of position, Quan managed to get the upper hand (or leg, in this case). Hooking his leg behind Stan's knee, Quan then rushed forward with a shoulder strike, taking the fight to the ground. However, Stan thought quickly and brought his legs up, and Quan found himself sailing through the air and landing roughly on his back. The next thing he saw was Stan getting back on his feet and attacking with a downward stab.

Quan followed the advice of Peppy Hare and did a barrel roll, resulting in Stan's blade being buried in two feet of earth. As Stan struggled to pull out, Quan took the opportunity to slash at Stan's legs. However, Stan proved to be more athletic than he looked and avoided the strike by doing a handstand on his sword, then executing a flip and freeing his weapon in one smooth motion.

"This is not a demonstration! You need emotional content," Stan taunted as he launched a series of horizontal strikes. Left, right, left, right, Stan moved so quickly that it seemed as if Quan was surrounded in a net of blades. The flurry of slashes was too much for Quan to keep track of at once, and splotches of red appeared on the ground.

The injuries caused Quan's bloodlust to rise greatly, and he emitted a battle cry that rang long and loud throughout the island. With a surprising burst of energy, he managed to block Stan's next two strikes with a figure eight. As Stan followed up with another horizontal slash, Quan did a peculiar thing. Instead of blocking the strike conventionally, he tucked his sword behind his back and turned.

Stan's strike glanced harmlessly off the flat of Quan's blade as Quan continued his turn, entering a lotus stance from which he landed a stab into Stan's left thigh. Stan cried out in pain and attempted to decapitate his nemesis with a downward swing, but Quan immediately rolled out of the way, taking a chunk of Stan's thigh with him. Stan roared in pain and slashed again, only to have Quan duck under the blow and stab him in the abdomen with Melissa's Ginsu knife.

Angered by the recent setbacks, Stan roared in displeasure and started another series of offensive maneuvers, all of which were defended by Quan. Suddenly, Stan disengaged and began running away. Quan was not going to allow this and gave pursuit. This proved to be a mistake, as Stan quickly turned around and hurled two shurikens at his pursuer, both of which impacted squarely with Quan's chest. As the Asian boy stumbled, Stan, in a stunning display of acrobatic ability, executed a tornado kick that knocked Quan back several steps. As Quan reeled from the blow, Stan, who was still airborne at this point, spun around and landed in a splits as he plunged his katana into Quan's stomach.

"You know karate, but I know ka-razy." Stan grinned as he twisted his blade, causing a gurgle of pain from his adversary.

"Against a powerful, even unbeatable opponent, a man must always have the will to draw his sword. Even in death, he must become a mountain, an impregnable bulwark against the foe," Quan growled as he looked Stan in the eyes and summoned the strength for one final blow. The Chinese broadsword sailed through the air, followed by Stan's head and a three-meter-high fountain of blood that spewed from Stan's neck arteries. As both fighters collapsed to the ground, Quan managed to utter one final word.

"Fatality."

-----------------------------

"Quan!"

The cry, though from different mouths, came at the same time. Cheryl rushed up to Quan's bleeding form, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him in an attempt to keep him conscious. Quan turned his head and smiled.

"It's merely a flesh wound," Quan joked in a failed attempt to downplay the extent of his wound. He then sighed and looked to the sky. "Shit, I so should not have quit Shaolin."

"Dammit, it wasn't supposed to be like this!" Cheryl cried. "We were supposed to escape together and get married, and then I would bear you strong sons to go fight for Sparta!"

"Heh-" Quan was about to say something when a sudden coughing fit came upon him. As he gasped and wheezed, blood could be seen coming from his mouth. When the fit subsided, Quan continued.

"You know, I think there's a religion where you just say 'I marry you' three times and bam, you're married. Cheryl, I marry you, I marry you, I marry you."

"Quan, I marry you, I marry you, I marry you," Cheryl responded. Quan laughed weakly. Suddenly, a shot rang out, splattering Carissa's head all over the ground. Cheryl looked up to see Justin Wei perched atop a rather tall tree, attempting to reload his AWP sniper rifle.

Thinking quickly, Cheryl grabbed her carbine, switched it to full auto, and emptied it at where Justin was fumbling with the bolt of his gun. Out of pure luck, one bullet hit Justin square in the stomach and knocked him off balance. It was a long way down, and even though Justin landed on his feet, it was a sufficiently big fall that both his legs were fractured. Not wasting a single second, Cheryl switched to Castagno's Desert Eagle and got Justin Wei with a headshot.

Cheryl walked back to Quan's body and called to him. When he gave no reply, she shook him. Still, no reply came. She shook him harder and harder, until it was clear as day that Quan's breath had left him. As she cradled Quan's head in her lap, Cheryl became aware of the sound of helicopter blades. It then hit her than she was the last person remaining in this twisted game of death.

-----------------------------

"Stephen F. Austin High School's graduating class of 2007 was randomly chosen from all public high schools in the country. As you all know, this year's game is the first such event in America's history," came the announcement from every major nightly news outlet. The camera soon zoomed in on a small girl of Filipino descent who was covered in blood and surrounded by bodies.

"Oh, look! There she is! The winner's a girl! Surviving a fierce battle that raged over three days, thirteen hours and twenty-eight minutes, the winner's a girl!"

Cheryl looked into a camera.

"Look, she's smiling, she's smiling! The girl definitely just smiled!"

-----------------------------

_1 Student remains._


	18. Epilogue

Epilogue

-----------------------------

"Man, I did not see that coming," Krueckl grumbled as she and Brownson paid Falligant. As Krueckl withdrew the last of the bills from her wallet, the chem teacher sighed. "Seriously, I thought Castagno would win this one easily."

"Yeah, same here," Brownson chimed in. "I mean, come on, the guy had everything going for him. Athletic ability, outdoors experience, orienteering expertise, skill with firearms, and one of the better guns as a weapon? Aggregate survival rate for everyone else got shifted _way_ to the left when he entered the playing field."

Falligant grinned. "See, that's why you need to practice your analyzing skills. I knew from the outset that Castagno wouldn't make it. When he broke through Alice Li's encirclement, he should have just done a raid instead of an annihilation sweep. Go in, kill some people, take their weapons, and leave before Alice could figure out what was going on. Bottom line is, Castagno did what he did because he saw a challenge. He saw that it was going to be a 9 on 2 fight, and so he drew his sword and charged forth. He went down swinging, but he still went down."

Brownon nodded. "Makes sense. So, how did you know to bet on Cheryl?"

Falligant grinned. "I didn't. Lucky guess."

-----------------------------

Brownson's Students of the Nine Weeks:

Christopher Castagno, Cheryl Montejo

-----------------------------

To: President George W. Bush

From: Donald Rumsfeld, SecDef

12 September 2006

**Subject: BR Act**

Recommendation:

Begin a Battle Royale program for the United States.

Background:

At the dawn of the millennium, the Japanese economy collapsed. At fifteen percent unemployment, ten million were out of work. 800,000 students boycotted school. The adults lost confidence, and fearing the youth, eventually passed the Millennium Educational Reform Act - AKA: The BR Act.

Each year, one class of graduating middle school students is randomly chosen to and placed on an island. Each student receives survival equipment and a random weapon with which they kill each other until only one remains. The program is televised and broadcast to every home and every public screen in the entire nation.

Analysis:

The adoption of such a program has numerous benefits to the persecution of the War of Terror.

1) The sight of children who were formerly the best of friends killing one another will fill the populace with paranoia. Not knowing who to trust, the average citizen will be less likely to rise up and form an insurrection. In addition, the average citizen will be more likely to snitch on their fellow man upon suspicion of illicit activities.

2) The knowledge that this wanton orgy of killing was brought upon solely by the whim of the government will fill the populace with fear of the government's power. Knowing that the government can snuff out life just as easy as 1-2-3, the American public will become too afraid to object to our rule, resulting in a severe decrease in criticism of our more unpopular policies.

3) The constant exposure to killing will desensitize an entire generation to violence. Having grown up in an atmosphere in which a small group of their peers are killed in grossly violent ways, America's youth will become easily urged to commit acts of violence against their fellow men in all corners of the globe.

Conclusion:

Instating a Battle Royale program is absolutely vital to the success of the War of Terror. I hope to hear your reply shortly.

Sincerely,

Donald Rumsfeld

Secretary of Defense

-----------------------------

To: Donald Rumsfeld, SecDef

From: President George W. Bush

13 September 2006

**Subject: BR Act**

Don,

This plan of yours sounds darn tootin'. Go for it.

Sincerely,

George W. Bush

President


	19. Works Cited

Works Cited

_300_. Dir. Zack Snyder. Perf. Gerard Butler, Lena Headey, David Wenham, Dominic West, Rodrigo Santoro, and David Tiernan. Warner Bros, 2007.

_The Boondocks_. Created by Aaron McGruder. Cartoon Network. 6 Nov 2005. Sony Pictures Television, 2005.

Hirano, Kouta. Hellsing. Tokyo: Young King OURs, 1997.

Ah fuck it, MLA can suck my dick.

-----------------------------

Special thanks to:

The real life Cheryl Montejo, my storyline advisor.

The real life Chris Nabzdyk, my weapons/tactics/realism advisor.

They're really nice people in real life. Seriously! They probably wouldn't shoot you, unless you like pissed them off or something.

Special acknowledgements to:

Frank Miller's _300_

Aaron McGruder's _The Boondocks_

Kouta Hirano's _Hellsing_

For debts that have become glaringly obvious in many of the chapters.

Regular acknowledgements to:

Troy Duffy's _The Boondock Saints_

Charles Frazier's _Cold Mountain_

Park Chan-wook's _Oldboy_

Takashi Miike's _Ichi the Killer_

Alan Moore's _V for Vendetta_

For stuff that appears in some chapters, but not others.

Final acknowledgements to:

The real life Kelly Falligant, for an awesome class that contributes most of the in-jokes of this piece.

The real life Chuck Brownson, whose class was also pretty interesting. Chuck Brownson does not sleep. He grades.

The real life Christina Krueckl. Um, sorry I dropped your class.

They're also nice people.

I don't think acknowledgements to the original Battle Royale are really necessary; I mean, it's kinda implied from the fact that this is a fanfic, right?

That's all, really! Thanks for reading!


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